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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

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LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 
OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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THE    BLOODY  CHASM 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 


A    NOVEL. 


BY 


J.    W.    DE    FOEEST, 

AtTTHOB    OF     "  KATE     BEATTMONT,"     "  PLATlXa    THE    MISCHrEF,"     "  OVEELAKD," 
"  IEE>"E  THE  MISSIONARY,"   ETC.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 

D.     APPLET  ON    AND     COMPANY, 

1,  3,  AND    5  Bond    Street. 

1881. 


COPYEIGirr  BY 

D.  APPLETOIT  AND  COMPANY, 
1881. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  war  of  secession  was  ended — lately  ended;  and 
Mr.  Silas  Mather  was  once  more  in  Charleston. 

It  had  been  many  years  since  he  was  in  that  notori- 
ous city — so  much  more  notorious  even  than  when  he 
quitted  it,  when  he  shook  off  the  dust  of  his  feet  against 
it.  Over  and  over  he  had  said  to  himself  and  to  others 
that  he  would  never  again  go  there.  Over  and  over, 
too,  he  had  resolved  that  he  icould  go  there — would 
somehow  or  other  force  an  entry  into  the  accursed 
place  ;  would  visit  it  in  enmity,  and  trample  it  with  his 
triumph.  As  a  man  who  had  suffered  from  its  social 
pride,  and  as  a  citizen  whose  patriotism  abhorred  its 
counsels,  he  had  regarded  it  with  vindictiveness  and 
with  deep  hatred. 

Xow  he  stood  amid  its  ruins.  He  saw  its  few  and 
fallen  burghers  walking  meekly  to  and  fro,  decimated, 
impoverished,  humbled,  and  disconsolate.  Their  rai- 
ment was  homespun,  or,  if  they  still  had  broadcloth, 
it  was  wofuUy  stained  and  threadbare.  Four  out  of 
five  of  the  lounging  and  laborless  passers-by  were  ne- 

602805 


6  THE  BL  0  OD  Y  CHASM. 

groes  of  extreme  raggedness.  There  was  no  stir  of  busi- 
ness or  sound  of  prosperity  in  the  streets.  The  great 
majority  of  the  shops  and  warehouses  were  closed.  The 
great  majority  of  the  dwellings  showed  no  sign  of  habi- 
tation. Here  and  there,  through  the  interstices  of  the 
neglected  pavements,  sprouted  thin  grass  and  long  weeds. 
The  upper  town,  the  part  where  he  now  stood,  was  little 
better  than  a  desert  and  a  silence. 

As  he  strolled  on  toward  the  Battery,  the  desert  be- 
came a  desolation.  The  well-remembered  Huguenot 
Church  was  a  ruin.  The  Catholic  Cathedral  was  a  ruin. 
Crumbled  and  flame-blackened  fragments  of  buildings 
— many  of  them  once  superb  mansions — covered  a  space 
of  many  acres.  This  was  the  quarter  where,  for  month 
after  month,  Gillmore's  shells  were  the  only  possessors 
and  tenants.  There  they  had  rioted  at  will,  crashing 
through  walls,  tearing  open  roofs,  and  prostrating  stee- 
ples. To  this  solitary  abolitionist  and  patriot  from  Bos- 
ton the  spectacle  was  fascinating,  solemn,  and  satisfac- 
tory. He  had  never  before  seen  ruins  which  had  been 
wrought  by  the  hand  of  war.  He  had  never  before 
seen  half  a  city  in  ruins.  He  thought  of  Babylon,  her 
haughtiness,  her  violence,  and  her  desolation.  At  that 
moment  it  was  a  keen  pleasure  to  remember  the  prophe- 
cies against  Babylon,  and  their  fulfillment. 

Then  a  gentler  remembrance  came  to  him.  He  halt- 
ed before  a  large  brick  mansion,  stained  nearly  to  black- 
ness by  time  and  the  damp  of  ocean  air,  and  fenced  in 
by  a  lofty  wall  garnished  with  spikes  of  iron,  all  remi- 
niscent of  the  days  of  grandeeism  and  of  slavery.  In 
that  dwelling,  now  evidently  untenanted  and  fallen  to 
neglect,  he  had  won  life-long  affection,  and  an  ill-will  at 
least  as  durable,  if  not  as  fervent.     There  he  had  been 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  7 

a  meek  and  laborious  tutor ;  then  a  dazzled,  an  auda- 
cious, and  a  successful  lover.  Thence  he  had  gone 
forth,  almost  penniless,  to  struggle  manfully  with  the 
world  for  its  pelf,  and  to  set  his  bosom's  jewel  in  gold. 
The  half,  or  perhaps  a  quarter,  of  his  present  income 
would  obviously  purchase  that  mansion  now.  But  he 
was  not  thinking  of  that ;  his  thoughts  were  in  another 
world.  After  standing  a  long  time  with  bent  head,  like 
one  who  stands  beside  a  bier  or  a  grave,  he  lifted  a  face 
wet  with  tears,  and  walked  feebly  away. 

He  was  still  wiping  the  dimness  from  his  eyes  when 
he  came  upon  another  mourner.  This  companion  in 
grief,  however,  Avas  clearly  sighing  over  Charleston. 
He  glanced  sadly  around  the  field  of  ruins,  and  then, 
settling  his  gaze  upon  the  shattered  Huguenot  Church, 
folded  his  arms  with  an  air  of  submission  to  final  and 
crushing  calamity.  He  was  a  man  of  over  sixty,  thin 
in  figure  and  haggard  in  countenance,  with  long,  white, 
neglected  hair.  His  clothing  was  a  suit  of  black  alpaca, 
glossy  with  long  wear,  and  pathetically  brocaded  with 
darns  and  patches.  His  attenuated  figure,  showing 
plainly  through  the  fluttering  raiment,  made  confession 
of  either  illness  or  starvation.  A  white  cravat,  deco- 
rously clean,  though  frayed  along  the  edges,  seemed  to 
indicate  that  he  was  a  clergyman. 

Mr.  Mather,  who  had  not  yet  learned  to  be  pitiful 
toward  Confederate  distress,  at  first  surveyed  this  spec- 
ter with  mere  vague  curiosity.  But  presently  his  care- 
less gaze  changed  to  sharp  inspection,  and  eventually 
to  recognition.  Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  it,  he 
had  before  him  the  minister  who  had  married  him — the 
minister  of  the  Church  of  the  Huguenots.  Advancing 
eagerly,  he  said  in  a  tone  of  sympathy — and  also  par- 


8  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

tially  of  inquiry,  so  changed  was  the  man  by  years  and 
misfortune— "  The  Reverend  Joseph  Roget,  I  believe?" 

The  clergyman  turned  slowly,  gazed  at  him  a  mo- 
ment with  dull,  watery  eyes,  and  replied  in  a  feeble, 
disheartened  tone,  almost  devoid  of  human  interest, 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  am  one  of  your  old  parishioners,"  said  the  North- 
erner, putting  forth  his  hand.  "  Silas  Mather,  formerly 
of  Charleston,  latterly  of  Boston." 

The  specter  accepted  the  proffered  hand,  and  forced 
a  feeble  smile.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  he  murmured. 
After  an  instant  of  hesitation,  much  like  that  of  a  man 
whose  mind  is  wandering,  he  added  with  impressive 
pathos  :  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  alive.  It  is  a  surprise. 
The  majority  of  the  people  whom  I  know  are  in  the 
graveyard." 

Mr.  Mather  realized  all  at  once,  and  for  the  first 
time,  that  he  was  in  a  land  of  bereavement  and  mourn- 
ing. His  instant  impulse  was  to  resist  this  unexpected 
claim  upon  his  pity.  "It  is  the  usual  experience  of 
men  of  our  age,"  he  said.     "  Death  is  everywhere." 

Mr.  Roget  shook  his  head — shook  it  pensively  and 
repeatedly — as  if  seeking  to  repulse  many  .sad  recollec- 
tions. "  But  here,"  he  sighed,  "  it  has  been  a  whirlwind 
of  death." 

Mather  shook  his  head  also,  but  somewhat  with  an 
air  of  sternness,  as  if  dispensing  judgment.  "  You  sowed 
the  wind,"  he  said,  "  and  you  reaped  the  whirlwind." 

The  clergyman  made  no  response  in  words.  He 
merely  glanced  in  a  meek,  troubled  way  about  the  field 
of  ruins.  He  had  the  air  of  thinking  that  the  whirl- 
wind was  enough,  without  joining  to  it  the  exultation 
of  a  foe.     Mather  followed  his  wandering,  sorrowful 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  9 

gaze,  and  then  looked  at  the  shattered,  tattered  man 
himself.  "  I  don't  reproach  you,  sir,"  he  added.  "  I 
think  I  heard  that  you  personally  did  not  accord  with 
the  fiendish  madness  of  secession.  I  was  thinking  of 
the  wicked  leaders  in  the  movement  and  their  crazed 
followers.  They  brought  their  doom — the  doom  of  this 
destruction — upon  their  own  heads.  You  surely  owe 
them  no  sympathy." 

*'  I  could  not  help  suffering  with  them,"  groaned  Mr. 
Roget.     "  I  can  not  help  grieving  with  them." 

"  Ah,  well,  I  will  say  no  more  about  it — no  more  of 
it  to  2/ow,"  returned  Mather.  "  There  is  sorrow  every- 
where— unavoidable  sorrow.     I  have  had  my  own." 

The  clergyman  bent  upon  him  a  look  of  interroga- 
tion, compassionate  with  the  habit  of  compassion. 

"My  wife — "  continued  Mather,  and  there  stopped 
suddenly,  his  voice  gone. 

"Ah  !  "  said  Roget  in  a  tone  of  comprehension  and 
pity.  Then  he  put  forth  his  hand,  and  added,  "The 
Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away." 

His  manner  was  that  of  one  who  understands  an- 
other's sorrow,  because  he  remembers  full  many  of  his 
own.  For  a  few  moments  the  two  broken  and  bereaved 
men  stood  with  clasped  hands  in  silence.  At  last  Ro- 
get added :  "  I  shall  never  forget  her.  She  was  the 
sweetest  of  her  race.     Have  you  children  ?  " 

Mather  shook  his  head  ;  it  was  a  great  grief  to  him. 
But  after  a  little  he  asked,  "  Did  you  know  my  sister, 
Mrs.  Underbill?" 

"Perfectly.  I  recollect  her  winterings  here  with 
great  pleasure." 

"And  her  son,  perhaps?  He  was  a  boy  in  those 
days." 


10  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

"I  think  I  remember  the  lad." 

"  He  is  my  son  now — the  only  one  I  have — the  only 
child.     I  am  doing  my  best  to  be  a  father  to  him." 

"  I  trust  that  he  will  abundantly  repay  your  care." 

Mr.  Mather  sighed.  Apparently  this  nephew  gave 
him  sorrow,  or  at  least  anxiety. 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  have  your  sympathy,"  he 
said,  looking  up  sharply  into  the  face  of  the  minister. 
"I  am  afraid  of  his  turning  papist." 

"Is  it  possible?  Has  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
some  clever  priest  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  could  forgive  that — almost.  If  it  were  an 
honest  change  of  opinion,  however  perverted,  I  could 
bear  that — after  a  fashion.  But  this  danger  comes  from 
a  meaner  source — one  of  the  pure  follies  of  youth." 

He  paused,  drew  a  long  sigh,  expelled  the  breath 
with  an  angry  hiss,  and  then  continued :  "  It  is  a  love- 
affair,  as  I  suppose.  I  must  really  talk  with  you  about 
it.  I  remember  you  as  a  counselor  of  old,  and  I  sadly 
need  counsel  now.  You  have,  perhaps,  seen  manias  of 
this  sort.  This  youngster — by-the-way,  he  is  twenty- 
seven  years  old — is  crazy  about  a  Catholic  girl — an  Irish 
Catholic.  She  is  a  decent  girl,  perhaps,  but  still  a  com- 
monplace Irish  girl  and  a  Catholic.  How  can  I  leave 
him  my  money  ?  " 

The  impoverished  clergyman  stared.  The  word 
"  money "  struck  him  with  something  like  surprise. 
There  were  so  few  people  in  his  acquaintance  who  had 
any  money  to  be  troubled  about  !  Protestant  as  he 
was,  he  could  not  yet  feel  that  the  rich  man's  sorrow 
was  overwhelming,  and  could  not  at  once  bring  forth 
an  apt  word  of  consolation. 

"  They  always  convert  their  husbands — those  Catho- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  H 

lie  women,"  resumed  the  Boston  Puritan.  "  The  Church 
insists  upon  that.  I  can't  let  my  fortune  go  into  that 
Church." 

"  Let  us  hope  that  it  is  only  a  passing  fancy,"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Roget. 

"  I  don't  know,"  sighed  Mather.  "  I  wish  I  could 
think  so.  The  girl  is  very  good,  I  fear — that  is,  I  hope 
and  believe.  But  so  much  the  worse — that  is,  in  a  cer- 
tain sense.  What  I  am  afraid  of,  you  of  course  under- 
stand, is  a  marriage." 

"  One  can  hardly  credit  that,"  judged  Roget,  a  South- 
erner of  patrician  descent,  and  not  accustomed  to  ex- 
pect misalliances.     "  Is  the  young  person  attractive  ?  " 

"  She  is  what  people  call  handsome,"  admitted  Math- 
er. Then  he  shook  his  head  negatively  at  the  epithet 
and  proceeded  to  qualify  it.  "  She  is  unmistakably 
Irish — a  pleasing  sort  of  face — that  is  all.  The  attrac- 
tion is  that  she  is  a  singer,  and  Harry  is  absurdly  fond 
of  music — foolish  about  it.  I  have  no  ear  myself,  and  I 
am  almost  thankful  for  it,  when  I  see  what  a  snare  it  is." 

The  clergyman  reflected  gravely.  Presently,  how- 
ever, there  came  to  him  a  thought  which  announced 
itself  by  a  feeble  smile.  It  seemed  a  specter  of  a  smile, 
rather  than  a  real  one  ;  it  almost  looked  surprised  to 
find  itself  on  those  wasted  lips. 

"  Would  it  not  be  possible,"  he  suggested  hesitat- 
ino;ly  '^to  find  for  him  another  sinofer  ?  " 

Mr.  Mather  opened  his  stony-gray  eyes  with  aston- 
ishment at  the  proposition.  Then  a  faint  expression  of 
humor  stole  into  his  white,  wrinkled  face,  and  he  an- 
swered with  an  air  of  assent  and  hopefulness  :  "  Ex- 
actly !  I  would  give  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  her. 
Where  is  she  ?  " 


12  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

*'  I  can  tell  you  who  she  is,  but  not  where,"  said  Mr. 
Roget.  "  It  is  a  young  lady  whom  you  would  doubt- 
less be  interested  in  looking  up.  You  know  of  your 
wife's  niece.  Miss  Virginia  Beaufort  ?  " 

"  I  came  here  to  seek  out  the  Beauforts,"  returned 
Mather  with  strong  interest.     "  Where  is  this  girl  ?  " 

**  I  can  not  say.  I  have  just  arrived  from  my  exile 
in  the  mountains.  My  flock  was  dispersed,  and  I  fled 
with  it.  But  I  understand  that  she  remained  in  Charles- 
ton during  the  whole  siege,  or  at  least  the  greater  part 
of  it.     She  may  be  here  yet,  probably  in  deep  poverty." 

"  If  you  hear  of  her  whereabout,  please  let  me  know 
it,  at  the  Charleston  Hotel,"  begged  Mr.  Mather.  "  It 
is  an  urgent  case.  I  must  help  the  Beauforts,  if  they 
need  help  ;  yes,  yes,  I  must  help  the  Beauforts,"  he  re- 
peated, solemnly. 

After  a  minute  or  so  he  began  talking  of  his  nephew 
again.  The  young  man  worried  him  much,  he  con- 
fessed ;  he  had  brought  him  from  the  North  to  save 
him  from  that  Miss  Macmorran  ;  and — would  it  be  be- 
lieved ! — he  had  found  her  here  in  Charleston  ;  he  had 
seen  her  on  Meeting  Street  that  very  morning.  It 
looked  like  an  arrangement — like  a  silly  or  wicked  con- 
spiracy. 

"  Come  and  dine  with  me,"  he  said  at  last.  "  I  shall 
have  a  private  dinner  at  two.  We  will  talk  everything 
over.  Possibly  something  can  be  suggested  for  the 
good  of  the  Church  of  the  Huguenots.  We  will  talk 
that  over." 

The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  then  the  two  old 
friends  parted,  each  going  his  own  way  through  the 
field  of  ruins,  and  each  weighted  with  his  own  burden. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  13 

CHAPTER  II. 

Not  far  from  where  Mather  and  the  clergyman 
parted,  but  hidden  from  them  by  fragments  of  ugly 
and  pitiable  ruin,  a  girl  of  some  twenty  years  stood  on 
the  dilapidated  sidewalk  of  Meeting  Street,  gazing  up 
the  long  thoroughfare  with  the  air  of  one  who  waits 
an  acquaintance  or  a  conveyance. 

She  had  a  tall  and  slender  figure,  a  pale  brunette 
complexion,  wavy  black  hair,  and  extremely  black  eyes. 
Her  features  were  regular  and  quite  handsome,  but  the 
jawbones  were  somewhat  more  marked  than  is  usual  in 
American  beauty,  and  there  was  an  indescribable  touch 
here  and  there  which  indicated  the  blood  of  Erin.  Her 
expression  was  most  interesting  :  it  was  grave,  com- 
posed, very  sweetly  modest,  and  very  sweetly  digni- 
fied ;  it  gave  one  the  idea  of  a  naturally  pure  soul, 
which  had  been  trained  to  meekness  and  obedience. 
Her  dress  enhanced  this  impression  :  the  coarse  robe  of 
black  alpaca  suited  the  wearer,  both  physically  and 
morally  ;  it  fitted  so  neatly  as  to  be  an  ornament,  and 
yet  was  plain  enough  to  confess  humility  or  poverty. 
On  the  whole,  she  was  an  exceedingly  attractive  speci- 
men of  the  dark  Irish,  that  mysterious  race  which  was 
conquered  so  long  ago  by  the  yellow-haired  Tuatha  na 
Danaan. 

Behind  her,  emerging  from  a  labyrinth  of  shattered 
houses,  appeared  the  Sassenach.  He  was  a  young  man, 
blonde,  and  handsome  in  face,  with  short,  curling,  sunny 
hair  and  mustache,  and  resolute  blue  eyes.  His  figure 
was  tall  and  powerful ;  his  erect  carriage  seemed  to 
proclaim  the  ex-soldier,  and  his  fashionable  traveling- 
costume  revealed  the  Northerner.     He  had  the  air  of 


14:  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

recognizing  the  girl,  and  his  expression  showed  pleasure 
as  well  as  surprise.  There  was  a  little  pause,  as  if  he 
were  devising  some  suitable  address  ;  then  he  advanced 
quickly  to  her  side,  and  said,  gayly,  "  Will  you  please 
sing  me  something  ?  " 

The  young  lady  started  as  if  something  quite  terri- 
ble had  happened.  "  O  Mr.  Underbill !  "  she  exclaimed, 
turning  upon  him.     "  How  came  you  here  ?  " 

There  was  no  doubting  the  honesty  of  her  amaze- 
ment and  trepidation.  Her  pale  cheek  filled  with  a 
dark-red  blush,  and  then  instantly  became  paler  than 
before. 

"I  came  by  boat,"  he  laughed.  "I  arrived  this 
morning,  and  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  and  I  want  you 
to  sing  me  something." 

"  I  remember,"  she  answered,  shyly,  and  dropping 
her  eyes  to  the  pavement.  "  I  should  have  known  who 
it  was  by  those  words,  without  looking  round.  But, 
Mr.  Underbill" — and  here  she  became  very  grave — 
why  did  you  come  ?  " 

Well,  Miss  Macmorran,"  he  said,  with  a  teasing 
air,  "  because  I  knew  you  were  here." 

The  girl  was  clearly  as  artless  and  unsuspecting  as  a 
cbild  ;  she  obviously  believed,  or  at  least  feared,  that 
he  spoke  in  earnest. 

"  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Underbill !  "  she  replied,  with  a  glance 
of  meek  reproof.  "  I  hope  it  isn't  true.  At  any  rate, 
you  shouldn't  be  here  for  that  reason." 

"  What  a  dreadful  creature  you  are  ! "  he  smiled, 
continuing  to  gaze  at  her  steadily.  She  was  evidently 
a  curiosity  to  him,  as  well  as  an  object  of  admiration. 
"  Now,  Miss  Norah  Macmorran,"  he  resumed,  more  se- 
riously, "  what  is  the  need  of  being  so  prim  ?  " 


vv 

ii 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  15 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  for  a  moment,  and  then 
dropped  them  timidly  and  shyly.  This  appeared  to  be 
a  habit  with  her,  and  it  was  almost  her  only  gesture. 
There  was  something  nunlike  in  it — something  very 
subdued  and  pathetic.  One  might  have  guessed  from 
it  that  she  had  known  the  discipline  of  a  convent,  or  the 
strict  and  calm  schooling  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity. 

"  I  have  to  be  prim,"  she  said,  with  a  faint,  placat- 
ing smile,  meanwhile  regarding  the  grasses  which  were 
struggling  through  the  neglected  pavement.  "I  am 
only  a  poor  chorister — the  daughter  of  a  poor  woman. 
I  must  remember  what  I  am.    I  told  you  so  in  Boston." 

Underhill  was  moved  by  this  appeal  of  the  lowly  to 
the  lordly.  "  Reassure  yourself,  Norah,"  he  said.  "  I 
came  here  without  the  least  idea  that  you  were  here. 
As  to  my  seeking  your  society — well,  I  can't  help  liking 
to  hear  you  sing,  and  I  don't  see  the  harm  of  it." 

"  Nor  do  I  see  the  harm  of  it.  But,  when  people  be- 
gin to  talk  and  point,  I  have  to  say  that  I  must  stop — 
must  stop  seeing  so  much  of  you.  You  know  that  your 
uncle — and  he  is  a  sort  of  father  to  you  " — she  added, 
with  a  sweet  little  expression  of  gravity  and  reverence — 
"  you  know  that  he  dislikes  to  have  you  come  where  I 
am." 

"  Such  perfect  nonsense  !  It  puts  me  in  a  fury.  I 
abominate  him." 

"  You  mustn't  ! "  protested  !N"orah,  with  a  shocked 
expression.  "  You  know  that  that  is  wrong.  You 
shouldn't  say  such  things." 

"  I  don't  mean  them,"  laughed  Underhill,  greatly 
amused  with  her  lecture.  "  What  a  good  little  thing 
you  are  !  I  begin  to  believe  that  the  Catholic  Church 
brings  up  the- best  girls  in  the  world." 


16  TEE  BLOODY  GEASM. 

"  Then  you  should  let  us  stay  good,"  said  Norah, 
lifting  her  eyes  with  a  look  of  gratitude,  and  instantly 
dropping  them  under  his  steady  gaze.  "  You  shouldn't 
want  us  to  do  things  against  our  conscience." 

"Against  your  conscience?  Don't  bring  in  such 
grave  ideas.     It  sounds  like  scolding." 

"  Now  tell  me  the  truth,"  answered  Norah,  with  an- 
other placating  smile.  "  Who  is  it  that  is  scolding  you  ? 
Isn't  it  your  own  conscience  ?  " 

"  You  are  very  keen,  Miss  Macmorran." 

"  ISTo,  I  am  not  a  bit  keen  ;  but  I  suppose  that  I  am 
right,  and  that  you  feel  it." 

"  Can't  I  call  to  see  you  ?  "  he  begged. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  ask  it,  Mr.  Underhill." 

"What  did  you  come  South  for?  To  run  away 
from  me  ?  " 

"  I  was  sent  out  here  on  a  salary — a  better  one  than 
I  had  in  Boston.  The  Church  in  the  North  is  helping 
the  Church  in  the  South,  and  a  choir  was  to  be  started 
for  Saint  Patrick's  here.  It  was  best  for  me  to  come, 
and  also  it  was  a  Church  duty." 

"  And  also  you  wanted  to  run  away  from  me  ?  " 

"I  did  think  of  that,  sir."  This  was  said  with  a 
charming  expression,  partly  native  modesty  and  gentle- 
ness, and  partly  disciplined  primness. 

"You  good — horrid — little  thing!"  grumbled  Un- 
derhill. 

Norah  was  trying  to  be  grave  and  severe,  but  she 
had  an  Irish  girl's  sense  of  humor,  and  she  helplessly 
burst  out  laughing.  "  You  see  that  you  can't  help  prais- 
ing me  for  it,"  she  answered,  just  glancing  at  him  and 
then  away.  "  I  think  that  you,  too,  are  good — and 
horrid." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  17 

*'  I  am  coming  to  Saint  Patrick's  to  hear  you  sing." 

"  You  are  at  liberty,  I  suppose,  sir,"  she  murmured, 
looking  serious  again,  as  if  she  were  trying  to  remember 
a  prayer. 

"Horrid  little  thing  !  I  shall  sit  in  the  choir." 

"  I  wish  you  would  not,  Mr.  Underbill." 

"  Away  back,  where  you  won't  see  me,  where  I  sha'n't 
divert  you  from  the  service  ?  " 

"  Please  don't,  Mr.  Underbill ;  please  sit  below." 

"  Dreadful  little  nun  !  Well,  I  suppose  I  must  do 
as  you  order.     Where  are  you  going  now?" 

Norah  glanced  down  Meeting  Street.  There  had 
already  been  an  effort  to  resurrect  some  of  the  dead  in- 
dustries of  the  town  ;  and  one  of  the  first  to  draw  the 
breath  of  renewed  existence,  and  even  of  some  little 
prosperity,  was  the  City  Railroad  Company — so  eager 
were  the  negroes  to  ride  alongside  of  white  people, 
and  so  willing  to  spend  their  last  sixpence  for  that 
privilege.  A  street-car — ponderous,  rumbling  shuttle 
of  cheap  transit  —  was  traversing  the  ruinous  warp 
and  woof  of  Charleston,  going  from  the  Battery  to- 
ward the  Arsenal. 

"  I  have  an  errand  to  the  railroad  depot,"  said  !N'orah. 
"I  want  to  take  this  car." 

"  So  do  I,"  smiled  Underbill. 

"  Then  I — mustn't,"  returned  ISTorah,  after  a  moment 
of  hesitation.     "  I  think  I  had  better  walk." 

"  Oh,  you  obstinate  little  Puritan  !  "  he  laughed. 
"  Well,  I  won't  tease  you  ;  I  won't  go  with  you,  though 
I  want  to.  Good-by,"  he  added,  extending  his  hand. 
"  I  wish  I  could  hear  you  sing  before  Sunday  comes.  I 
wish  I  could  meet  you  oftener." 

She  shyly  gave  him  her  hand,  and  replied  vaguely, 


18  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"Thank  you,  sir."  Then  she  turned,  stepped  alertly 
toward  the  car  as  if  to  prevent  him  from  helping  her  in, 
and  rode  away  without  looking  back. 

Underhill  followed  her  with  his  eyes  as  long  as  he 
could  see  her.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  him  to  watch  her 
thin,  graceful  figure  and  swift,  springy  gait.  He  knew 
that  figure  and  that  gait  at  any  distance.  When  he  saw, 
at  last,  that  she  would  not  throw  him  a  parting  glance, 
and  that  the  vehicle  itself  was  getting  beyond  range  of 
distinct  vision,  he  turned  away  with  an  air  of  disappoint- 
ment, and  walked  rapidly  down  Meeting  Street,  hum- 
ming one  of  her  solos.  It  was  his  purpose  to  reach  the 
Battery  and  obtain  from  there  a  distant  view  of  Fort 
Sumter.  He  had  only  taken  a  few  steps,  however,  when 
he  became  aware  that  his  uncle  was  approaching  him, 
and  that  the  old  man's  countenance  was  troubled  and 
grim. 

"  Ah,  sir  ! "  he  said,  with  some  little  confusion  of 
manner.     "  So  you  have  been  studying  the  ruins  ?  " 

"Yes,"  returned  Mr.  Mather,  dryly.  "You  have 
found  an  acquaintance,  I  see,  sir." 

Underhill  smiled  very  slightly.  He  was  too  mature 
a  person,  and  too  self -respectful,  to  be  easily  perturbed. 
"  It  was  Miss  Macmorran,"  he  said  ;  "  the  Boston  singer 
you  know — the  Irish  singer." 

"  I  remember,"  was  the  elder  gentleman's  sulky  re- 
sponse. 

"  I  met  her  by  accident,  quite  to  my  surprise,"  ex- 
plained the  nephew,  not  choosing  to  be  misunderstood. 
"  She  is  a  very  nice,  good  girl,"  he  added,  a  little  irri- 
tated by  the  condemnation  in  his  uncle's  manner. 

"A  good  Catholic,  I  suppose  you  mean,  Harry,"  re- 
turned the  Massachusetts  Puritan,  speaking  out  of  a 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  19 

life-long  hatred  of  Giant  Pope,  and  also  out  of  his  terror 
lest  his  nephew  and  heir  should  wed  unworthily  "  I 
have  no  confidence  in  the  virtue  taught  by  that  Church. 
It  is  a  superficial,  formal,  false  Church." 

Harry  tried  to  joke  the  matter  away.  "  Oh,  yes," 
he  smiled,  "  it  is  the  mother  of  abominations,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing."  But,  seeing  that  his  uncle  was  only 
irritated  by  his  attempt  at  sportiveness,  he  checked 
it  and  spoke  seriously.  "  I  am  not  going  to  be  a 
pervert,  sir,  if  that  is  what  you  fear.  I  merely 
admire  Miss  Macmorran's  singing,  and  approve  her 
character." 

It  was  evident  that,  whether  these  two  men  liked 
each  other  or  not,  there  were  regard  and  respect  between 
them,  and  unwillingness  to  displease.  Mr.  Mather 
looked  as  if  he  wanted  to  speak  bitterly,  but  could  not 
muster  courage  to  do  so.  Hard  words  would  probably 
have  hurt  his  own  feelings  quite  as  much  as  they  would 
have  hurt  Underhill's. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  her  character,"  he 
mumbled,  glancing  about  him  aimlessly  to  avoid  meet- 
ing his  nephew's  eyes.  "  As  to  her  singing,  I  wish  it 
didn't  take  you  to  her  church  and  among  such  common- 
place people." 

"  I  saw  very  little  of  them.     The  chorister  was  about 

all." 

"  What  has  she  come  to  Charleston  for  ?  " 

"  She  came  on— in  fact,  she  was  sent  on— to  be  so- 
prano in  a  church  here." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mather,  suspiciously.  "  It's  very  singu- 
lar.    I  wonder  if  we  shall  find  her  in  Savannah  ?" 

"  Possibly  ;  she  may  be  on  a  mission — a  musical  pil- 
grimage," returned  Harry,  ironically. 


20  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

The  elder  gentleman  had  the  air  of  being  fretted,  if 
not  downright  angered,  by  this  trifling.  The  nephew 
took  note  of  it,  and  became  serious  once  more. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  do  the  girl  justice,"  he  urged. 
"  She  certainly  could  not  have  come  here  to  meet  me. 
She  has  no  money  for  such  adventures,  and,  I  honestly 
believe,  no  fancy  for  them.  I  am  confident  that  she 
was  entirely  surprised  to  see  me." 

"  Oh,  well,"  groaned  Mather.  "  It  is  a  coincidence, 
I  suppose.  I  really  hope  that  you  won't  seek  her  so- 
ciety. It  can't  do  any  good,  you  know.  Are  you  for 
the  hotel  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me,  I'll  push  on  to  the  Battery. 
I  want  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Fort  Sumter,  and  of  the 
fighting  arena  generally." 

Mr.  Mather's  thoughts  took  a  cheerful  turn  as  he 
remembered  the  bombardment  of  Charleston.  *'  Of 
course,"  he  said,  brightly.  "  Of  course  a  soldier  wants 
to  see  all  that.  You  took  a  part  in  those  matters,  thank 
Heaven  !  I  mean  to  have  a  look  at  Fort  Sumter  myself. 
But  I  take  fatigue  easily,  and  I  need  to  get  to  my  room 
now.  Don't  trouble  yourself,"  he  added,  as  the  young 
man  turned  to  accompany  him.  "  I  can  go  perfectly 
well  alone.  My  old  complaint,"  laying  his  hand  tran- 
quilly on  his  heart,  "seems  to  have  left  me — for  a 
time." 

"  Good-by,  sir,"  said  Underbill,  respectfully,  and, 
touching  hats  to  each  other,  they  separated. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  21 

CHAPTER  III. 

Left  to  himself  amid  the  ruins  of  Charleston,  Mr. 
Mather  soon  recovered  his  equanimity.  The  widespread 
spectacle  of  that  flame-blackened  desolation  was  very 
comforting  and  exhilarating  to  him.  In  all  honesty 
and  purity  of  spirit  he  compared  himself  to  a  prophet 
Avalking  among  the  ruins  of  Babylon.  * 

"  I  knew  it  would  come,"  he  said  aloud.  "  I  knew 
that  slavery  and  treason  and  unprovoked  rebellion  could 
not  conquer  in  the  end.  I  felt  and  asserted  that,  so  sure 
as  there  is  a  God  above — a  God  of  justice  and  holiness 
and  awful  power — just  so  surely  would  the  violent  South 
be  brought  to  destruction.  This  spectacle  is  the  most 
striking  proof  that  I  have  ever  seen  of  the  might  of  a 
good  cause,  and  of  the  overruling  watchfulness  of  a  holy 
Creator  and  Governor." 

He  ended  his  soliloquy  because  he  became  conscious 
that  some  one  had  overtaken  and  w^as  slowly  passing 
him.  Glancing  sidelong,  he  noted  that  the  person  was 
evidently  a  Southerner — a  superbly  tall  and  stalwart 
man  of  middle  age,  with  a  grave  and  almost  grim  aqui- 
line countenance,  and  an  air  of  dignity  which  contrasted 
strangely  with  his  seedy  suit  of  gray  homespun.  Mr. 
Mather  looked  carelessly  at  the  worn  face  ;  then  he  sud- 
denly leaned  forward  to  peer  at  it  eagerly  ;  then  he 
made  an  effort  to  get  abreast  of  the  stranger.  Touch- 
ing him  gently  on  the  arm,  he  said,  in  a  clear,  hard, 
emphatic  voice,  "As  I  was  saying,  sir,  it  can't  be 
done." 

Both  men  halted  and  gazed  at  each  other  in  silence. 
The  Southerner  had  an  air  of  non-recognition  and  of 
amazement.     After  a  moment  he  remarked  in  a  deep, 


22  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM, 

• 

mellow  bass,  and  with  a  singularly  collected  and  cour- 
teous demeanor,  considering  the  oddness  of  the  situa- 
tion :  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir.  You  have  the  advantage 
of  me.     I  really  beg  your  pardon,  sir." 

"  Four  years  ago,"  said  Mather,  slowly,  "  in  my  of- 
fice in  Boston  I  told  you  it  could  not  be  done." 

"  Boston  ?  Your  office  ?  "  queried  the  other.  "  Oh, 
God  bless  my  soul  !  Is  it— is  it  Mr.  Mather  ?  God 
bless  my  soul  !  I  remember  you  now." 

"  And  our  conversation  ?  "  insisted  the  ISTortherner." 

"  God  bless  me  !  I  had  forgotten  it.  I  recollect 
it  now,"  admitted  the  Carolinian,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"  What  a  memory  you  have  !  Yes,  I  recall  it.  I  said 
that  the  South  icould  go  out,  and  you  said — " 

"That  it  could  not  be  done." 

"  I  see  it  can't,"  bowed  the  Southerner.  He  laughed, 
but  not  blithely,  and  then  shook  his  head  very  sadly. 
"  We  did  our  best,"  he  added. 

"  Or  worst." 

"  Ah,  sir  !  you  are  victors."  This  was  uttered  with 
a  sigh.  "  You  have  the  right  to  exult.  I  would  sim- 
ply ask,  my  dear  sir,  is  it  magnanimous  ?  " 

"It  seems  harsh,  no  doubt.  General  Hilton,"  con- 
ceded the  Unionist.  "  I  believe  you  became  a  general 
in  the  rebel  army  ?  "  he  queried. 

Hilton  bowed  gravely,  and  with  a  very  slight  frown, 
probably  at  the  word  "  rebel." 

"  It  seems  harsh,"  repeated  Mather,  "  but  that  one 
sentence  I  have  kept  in  my  heart  for  four  years.  I 
meant  all  that  time  to  say  it  to  you,  and  to  say  it  here. 
I  meant  to  say  it  not  only  to  you,  but  to  many  others. 
I  meant  it  as  a  duty." 

Hilton  gazed  at  him  with  the  pathetic  composure  of 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  23 

one  who  has  learned  to  be  patient  in  the  school  of  fail- 
ure and  suffering. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  let  me  tell  you  in  all  so- 
lemnity, and  with  such  kindness  of  spirit  as  I  can  mus- 
ter, that,  before  you  have  been  here  a  fortnight,  you 
will  look  upon  it  as  a  cruel  duty.  We  are  a  crushed, 
beggared,  prostrate  people." 

Mr.  Mather  surveyed  the  speaker  attentively.  There 
had  been  a  great  change  in  him  since  that  meeting  of 
four  years  ago.  His  figure  was  still  tall  and  upright 
and  imposing,  but  it  looked  bony  and  wasted  through 
his  mean  raiment.  His  face  had  lost  its  old  plumpness 
and  air  of  confidence  ;  it  was  much  darkened  in  color 
and  sharpened  in  outline  ;  it  was  a  haggard  and  weary 
countenance.  His  walk  had  that  emphatic  and  pathetic 
deliberation,  that  limp  with  a  strongly  marked  pause 
before  each  step,  which  indicates  an  artificial  leg.  One 
of  his  hands,  also,  was  crippled  and  disfigured,  as  if  by 
the  tearing  of  a  bullet. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  that  you  personally  have  suf- 
fered," said  the  Bostonian.  <'I  have  no  spite  toward 
individuals." 

"  I  was  forty  years  old  when  I  called  on  you  in  re- 
gard to  the  Beaufort  properties,"  returned  Hilton.  "I 
was  in  my  prime.  Look  at  me  now,"  he  sighed,  taking 
off  his  hat.  "  Did  you  ever  before  see  a  man  of  middle 
age  who  was  seventy  years  old  ?  " 

"Ah  !  Your  hair  was  black  then,"  said  Mather.  He 
scowled  slightly,  like  one  who  is  unexpectedly  and  pain- 
fully forced  into  pity— who  is,  as  it  were,  dazzled  by  a 
sudden  glare  of  misery.  It  is  doubtful  whether  he  was 
quite  conscious  that  he  took  the  ex-Confederate  General 
by  the  hand. 


24  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

"A  gray  head  is  no  misfortune,"  continued  Hilton. 
*'  But  this  is  a  gray  head  dishonored.  I  am  a  bank- 
rupt." He  paused  a  moment ;  the  other  could  hear, 
through  his  closed  lips,  the  grinding  of  his  teeth  ;  then 
came  a  deep  sigh,  and  the  ruined  man  added  :  "But  let 
that  pass.  It  is  small  business  to  dwell  upon  my  per- 
sonal calamities.  We  are  all  bankrupts — a  people  of 
bankrupts.     The  South  is  an  almshouse  !  " 

The  Unionist,  standing  on  the  height  of  his  patriotic 
integrity,  facing  this  ruin  of  a  rebel,  and  surrounded  by 
the  ruins  of  Charleston,  felt  himself  driven  to  apologize. 

"  I  have  said  my  one  word  of  exultation  and  reproof," 
he  murmured.  "  I  am  not  ashamed  of  it.  I  said  it  as 
a  citizen,  however,  and  not  as  an  individual." 

"  If  you  had  been  a  soldier  as  well,  you  would  prob- 
ably not  have  said  it,"  observed  the  Southerner,  speak- 
ing with  a  gentle  pensiveness,  like  a  man  who  meditates 
rather  than  retorts. 

Mr.  Mather  let  go  of  the  crippled  hand,  and  asked, 
with  some  irritability,  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Soldiers  are  comrades,"  said  Hilton.  "  They  may 
fight  under  hostile  flags,  but  still  they  are  comrades.  I 
have  encountered  many  of  your  officers  since  we  laid 
down  our  arms.  We  can  meet  and  do  meet  as  com- 
rades. I  wish  you  personally  had  fought  us.  You 
would  have  liked  us  better." 

"  I  didn't  guess  that  you  cared  to  be  liked." 

"  The  war  is  over.  It  would  be  well  to  be  friends 
again." 

Once  more  the  Unionist  took  the  hand  of  the  ex- 
Confederate.  "  So  be  it  henceforward,  at  least  between 
us  two,"  he  said.  "  I  came  here  to  be  friendly.  I  can't 
forget  the  past.    I  am  a  Union  man — a  bitter  one.    But, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  25 

as  for  the  future,  let  that  be  peace.  Come  and  dine 
with  me  to-day,  General,  at  the  hotel.  I  want  to  pre- 
sent to  you  my  nephew.  Colonel  Underhill." 

"  I  accept  with  great  pleasure,  and  I  shall  be  happy 
to  meet  your  relative,"  bowed  Hilton,  with  Southern 
urbanity. 

"  He  fought  against  you,  I  am  proud  to  say,"  smiled 
Mather. 

"  All  the  better.  We  shall  have  a  common  ground 
of  sympathy  and  interest." 

Mr.  Mather  seemed  much  gratified  by  this  declara- 
tion. "  I  am  glad  that  I  met  you,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
glad  on  my  own  account.  By-the-way,  can  you  tell  me 
anything  of  the  Beaufort  family  ?  " 

"  Ah !  your  wife's  relatives,"  returned  Hilton,  becom- 
ing quite  grave  again.  "  I  can  tell  you  much,  sir,  in 
one  word — gone  !  " 

"  What !  All  gone  ?     Do  you  mean — dead  ?  " 

"  There's  not  a  man  of  that  noble  race  on  the  face  of 
this  miserable  earth,"  continued  Hilton,  evidently  with 
strong  feeling.  "  I  must  call  it  a  noble  race,  sir.  It  had 
furnished  many  gentlemen  to  South  Carolina,  and  it 
ended  as  a  line  of  gentlemen  should.  Every  one  of 
those  four  Beaufort  boys  fell  in  the  fore-front  of  battle, 
with  his  back  to  the  field  and  his  face  to  the  foe." 

"  May  God  forgive  them  !  "  said  Mather,  solemnly. 
"They  have  gone  to  their  account." 

For  a  moment  the  General  seemed  to  forget  his  elab- 
orate Southern  urbanity.  "It  strikes  me,  sir,"  he  ob- 
served, dryly, "  that  God  may  find  it  easier  to  forgive 
than  a  New  England  Puritan  can." 

"  I  trust  that  I  remember,  sir,  that  I  am  not  the  Judge 
of  all  the  earth,"  retorted  Mather,  with  equal  dryness. 
2 


28  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Hilton  became  pensive  and  reflective  again.  *'  You 
forget  one  thing,"  he  smiled,  sadly.  "  You  forget  that 
you  Northerners  stand  to  us  in  the  place  of  a  divinity. 
Your  foot  is  upon  our  necks." 

*•  I  had  hardly  become  aware  of  it,"  murmured  Math- 
er. "  One  can  scarcely  believe  yet  that  that  terrific  re- 
sistance is  over.  Well,  as  I  said  before,  I  came  to  be 
friendly.  Isn't  there  one  Beaufort  left  ?  I  heard  of  a 
daughter." 

"  Yes — Miss  Virginia  Beaufort,"  said  Hilton,  with  a 
bright  smile.  "  The  flower  of  the  low  country.  Heav- 
en help  her  !  Yes,  she  is  here  in  Charleston,  entirely 
alone  and  very  poor.  I  presume  she  will  see  you — I 
don't  know.  Four  brothers  gone  !  She  is  very  bitter. 
Our  women  are  all  in  black  or  in  rags,  and  they  are 
very  bitter.     God  help  them  !  " 

"Do  me  the  favor,  General,  to  tell  me  where  this 
young  lady  lives." 

"I  shall  take  great  pleasure  in  so  doing,"  Hilton 
bowed,  almost  gratefully.  "  It  is  only  a  step.  But  let 
me  beg  of  you,  sir,  to  be  prepared  to  shoAV  patience. 
You  may  find  her  very  bitter." 

"  I  know  the  Beauforts,"  Mather  returned  in  a  tone 
which  was  full  of  significance,  and  which  had  a  slight 
twang  of  vindictiveness.  "  I  have  not  been  accustomed 
to  expect  much  courtesy  from  them.  You  are  aware,  no 
doubt,  of  the  nature  of  our  domestic  relations.  They 
never  forgave  my  wife  for  marrying  a  Yankee  tutor — 
not  even  after  that  Yankee  had  surrounded  her  with 
prosperity." 

"  Old  blood,  Mr.  Mather — very  proud  old  blood — 
rather  grim  blood,"  was  the  General's  somewhat  awk- 
ward apology.     "All  the  same,  noble  blood." 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  27 

"  Thank  Heaven,  my  wife  was  unlike  the  rest !  "  ex- 
claimed the  old  man,  his  voice  suddenly  tremulous. 
"  She  could  forgive.     I  am  here  by  her  wish." 

The  General  resjoectfully  lifted  his  shabby  Kossuth 
hat,  tattered  with  long  field  service  and  a  bullet-hole 
or  two.  "  Faithful  and  true — not  so  much  unlike  the 
rest,"  he  said.  "  Mr.  Mather,  I  tell  you  that  it  was  one 
of  South  Carolina's  grandest  lineages  of  men  and  of 
women.  I  was  educated  in  reverence  toward  it.  May 
I  exhort  you  once  more  to  long-suffering  and  mercy  for 
the  last  one  who  bears  its  name  ?  This  very  lovely  young 
lady  needs  friends.     She  is  very  poor  and  very  sad." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  sighed  Mather.  "  God  help  me 
to  comfort  her  !     She  is  terribly  alone." 

There  was  so  much  emotion  in  these  final  words  that 
Hilton  turned  and  gazed  at  the  speaker  with  compas- 
sionate inquiry.  For  the  first  time  he  noticed  that 
Mather's  fresh  and  prim  hat  was  encircled  with  a  broad 
weed.  "  God  help  her  to  comfort  youf^  he  murmured. 
"  There  is  grief  everywhere." 

Then  they  walked  on  in  silence  until  the  General 
stopped  before  a  small  shanty  of  unpainted  boards,  sad- 
ly rent  and  stained  by  time  and  the  weather. 

"  What ! — here  ?  "  asked  Mather  in  an  awed  and 
pitying  whisper,  like  that  of  a  man  who  gazes  upon  a 
coffin.  He  seemed  to  himself  to  be  standing  by  the 
funereal  receptacle  of  a  whole  family. 

"  This  is  what  remains  to  the  Beauforts — the  house 
of  one  of  their  slaves  !  "  said  Hilton.  "  You  will  prob- 
ably find  her  there,  washing  and  ironing  with  Aunt 
Chloe.  Or  perhaps  she  has  gone  to  carry  the  laundry- 
work  to  the  hotel.  She  sometimes  does  that  when  the 
old  woman  is  rheumatic  and  Uncle  Phil  is  looking  up 


28  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

a  job.  I  have  helped  her  along  the  street  with  her 
basket." 

"  Father  of  mercies  ! "  muttered  Mather.  *'  Why 
didn't  I  come  before  ?  " 

The  General,  turning  quickly  away,  and  tottering  a 
moment  on  his  wooden  leg,  raised  his  eyes  desperately 
to  heaven,  covered  his  face  with  his  battle-scarred  hand, 
and  uttered  a  sob. 

"  O  my  God  !  "  he  groaned,  "  how  crushed  and  de- 
filed we  are  !  Trampled  into  the  dust  and  dishonored  ! 
This  is  only  one.  There  are  hundreds  more — the  flower 
of  South  Carolina — reduced  to  this,  or  worse  !  " 

He  limped  onward  up  the  deserted  street,  and  Mather 
prepared  to  enter  the  ruinous  shanty  alone. 


CHAPTER   ly. 

Inside  the  shanty,  on  a  wooden  bench,  such  as 
daughters  of  toil  stand  their  tubs  upon,  sat  an  elderly 
colored  woman. 

She  had  the  mild  eyes,  the  bright  and  adroit  expres- 
sion, the  regular  and  almost  delicate  features  and  the 
maroon  complexion  of  the  Fellatahs — a  brown  race  of 
north-middle  Africa,  far  superior  in  parts  and  comeli- 
ness to  the  pure  negro.  In  spite  of  a  few  wrinkles,  and 
of  ravages  wrought  by  privation  and  illness,  her  face 
was  still  an  agreeable  one,  and  in  its  kind  handsome. 
Her  attire  was  as  singular  a  mixture  as  poverty  could 
well  gather  out  of  the  wreck  of  opulence.  On  her 
head,  folded  in  the  manner  of  a  turban,  glared  a  Turkish 
towel  of  red-and-white  stripes.     Her  waist,  or  jacket. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  29 

wofully  frayed  and  split  by  long  use,  was  of  clieckered 
black  and  crimson,  and  had  evidently  been  made  out  of 
a  table-cover.  The  diapering  in  her  white  skirt — white 
only  by  extreme  courtesy  of  speech — showed  that  it 
had  once  been  a  sumptuous  bed-counterpane.  A  single 
glance  at  her  leathery  and  hardened  feet  was  enough  to 
reveal  the  fact  that  she  had  not  for  a  long  time  worn 
shoes  and  stockings. 

This  was  Aunt  Chloe,  otherwise  called  Mauma  Chloe, 
the  last  faithful  remnant  of  the  feminine  property  of 
the  Beauforts.  She  was  obviously  in  bodily  pain,  and 
also  in  dejection  of  soul.  "With  her  crumpled  and  horny 
right  hand  she  rubbed  one  thigh  and  knee,  while  her 
patient  eyes  gazed  mournfully  at  an  empty  and  fireless 
hearth.  Meantime  she  muttered  in  a  slow,  dislocated 
fashion  the  following  soliloquy  :  "  'Pears  like  dese  yere 
pains  'ud  breck  me  up  some  day.  Ain't  no  'count  much 
longer,  I'se  afeard.  An'  Phil — he's  a  kind  o'  no  'count 
nigger,  too — don'  fotch  in  mos'  nothin'  lately.  Ef  me 
an'  him  doos  breck  up,  what's  to  come  o'  Miss  Ginny  ? 
Oh,  Lordy  ! " 

At  this  moment  Uncle  Phil,  the  brother  of  Mauma 
Chloe,  a  curiously  little  old  brown  man,  not  unlike  to 
a  withered  sweet-potato,  and  dressed  in  such  shabby 
raiment  that  it  seemed  to  stay  on  him  only  by  miracle, 
meekly  entered  the  rear  doorway  of  the  shanty,  and 
seated  himself  wearily  on  the  broken  sill.  In  response 
to  an  impatient  glance  from  his  sister,  which  obviously 
reproached  him  for  not  being  at  work,  he  muttered  in  a 
feeble,  grunting  tone  :  "  'Pears  like  dar  ain't  no  jobs  at 
all,  nowhar.  Nothin'  to  give  away,  nuther.  Could'n 
fotch  nothin'  along,  nohow." 

"  Oh,  you  brucken-down  nigger  ! "  groaned  Mauma 


30  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Chloe.  "  What  d'ye  come  home  fur  ?  'Spec's  ye's  gwine 
ter  find  chickin  an'  sweet-pertater  ?  How's  I  to  cook 
dinnah  without  vittle  ? 

"  Ain't  dar  nothing  lef  ? "  asked  Uncle  Phil,  who 
looked  weak  and  famished.  "  Whar's  Miss  Ginny  ?  "  he 
added,  as  if  there  were  some  help  in  that  presence — the 
presence  of  a  Beaufort. 

"  Gone  ter  kerry  de  does,"  grumbled  Chloe.  "  Would 
kerry  'em,  'cause  I  was  limpin'.  Jess  been  cryin'  'bout 
it  myself.  Every  time  she  goes  out  on  the  public  street 
with  dat  ar  basket,  I'se  ready  to  die  o'  shame.  I'd  like 
to  butt  my  ole  head  agin  a  stone  wall." 

"  So  I  would,"  assented  Uncle  Phil.  Then,  remem- 
bering his  hunger  once  more,  he  added  desperately, 
*'  Ain't  dar  no  dinnah  at  all  ?  " 

"Not  'less  Miss  Ginny  gets  paid.  S'pose  she  can't 
eat  xis.  Wish  she  could.  Oh,  dear  !  what's  to  come  o' 
that  chile  ?  'Pears  like  de  Lawd  did'n  take  no  notice  o' 
awphans  now'days." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Mather's  knock  was  heard,  and 
Aunt  Chloe  fervently  exclaimed  :  "  Dar's  help  !  Bet 
you  de  Lawd  sent  dem  folks,  whoever  dey  is. — Come 
in!" 

Mr.  Mather  entered  with  a  gentle  step,  looked  around 
him  in  vain  for  a  Beaufort,  and  then  courteously  saluted 
the  two  colored  people. 

"  Evenin',  Masr,"  responded  Aunt  Chloe,  although  it 
was  but  a  little  after  mid-day.  "  Walk  right  in,  Masr. 
— Phil,  brush  out  Miss  Ginny's  chair,  an'  han'  it  to  the 
gen'leman. — 'Scuse  me^  Masr  ;  Pse  tarrible  rheumatic, 
an'  it  makes  me  kinder  slow." 

Uncle  Phil,  without  ceasing  to  bow  and  grin,  did  as 
he  was  bidden.     The  visitor   seated  himself  with  an 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  31 

elderly  person's  deliberation,  and  then  glanced  again 
about  the  cabin.  It  was  a.contracted  and  shabby  place 
of  abode,  discomforting  to  the  sight,  and  not  entirely 
pleasing  to  the  sense  of  smell.  The  room  in  which  he 
sat  could  not  have  been  more  than  twelve  feet  square, 
and  was  barren  of  all  furniture  except  a  rush-bottomed 
chair,  a  rickety  pine  table,  a  wash-bench,  and  two  tubs. 
In  the  fireplace  stood  a  battered  tin  coffee-pot,  a  small 
iron  stewpan,  and  three  or  four  plates  of  common  crock- 
ery. An  open  door,  cut  through  a  partition  of  un- 
painted  boards,  disclosed  a  sort  of  sleeping-closet,  in 
which  there  was  a  bed  made  up  on  the  floor.  A  rude 
stairway,  as  narrow  and  nearly  as  steep  as  a  ladder,  led 
up  through  a  hole  in  the  unfinished  ceiling  to  a  low 
attic.  Mr.  Mather  surveyed  every  item  of  this  poverty 
minutely  and  gravely,  and  shook  his  silvery  head  in 
compassionate  protest. 

"  My  good  people,"  he  said,  turning  to  the  old  cou- 
ple, "  I  came  to  see  if  I  could  be  of  any  service  to  you." 
"  Oh,  laws  !  I  know'd  you  did,  Masr,"  returned  Aunt 
Chloe,  breaking  into  a  whimper,  but  smiling  as  she 
whimpered.  "De  Lawd  he  sont  you.  You's  one  o' 
dem  Nawth'n  gen'lemen." 

"  Gin  us  our  freedom.  Boss,  you  folks  did,"  meekly 
smirked  Uncle  Phil.  "  We  knows  it,  Boss,  an'  'mem- 
bers it." 

Mr.  Mather  glanced  at  the  dinnerless  fireplace,  and 
sighed,  "  I  fear  it  hasn't  done  you  much  good  so  far." 

"  Mighty  starvin'  times  sence  de  wah.  Boss,"  con- 
ceded the  hungry  uncle.  "  Niggers  is  drefful  poo'  folks 
dese  yere  days.  All  de  same,  we'd  ruther  be  our  own 
poo'  folks,  an'  not  somebody  else's." 

Mr.  Mather  put  his  fingers  into  his  vest-pocket  and 


32  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

handed  the  old  man  a  small  roll  of  bills.  There 
were  copious  and  humble  expressions  of  gratitude,  to 
which  he   listened  with  a  half -pitying,  half -impatient 

smile. 

"  You  used  to  belong  to  the  Beauf orts,  didn't  you  ?  " 
he  asked,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  a  chance  to  speak. 

"  Yes,  Masr,"  returned  the  old  woman,  and  she  was 
clearly  very  proud  to  say  it.  "  I'se  Mauma  Chloe,  an' 
dis  yere's  Phil,  my  ole  brother.  We  was  Beaufort  nig- 
gers, an'  no  mistake.  Lived  down  on  de  island  planta- 
tion, befo'  de  wah." 

Mather  seemed  to  care  little  for  their  history.  He 
had  the  abstracted,  cheerless  countenance  of  a  man 
who  is  recalling  a  happy  past  which  ended  in  calamity. 
Presently  he  inquired,  with  a  fitfully  twitching  mouth, 
*'  Do  you  remember  Elizabeth  Beaufort  ?  " 

"  'Member  her  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Chloe.  "I  was  Aer 
gal.  "When  she  was  down  to  th'  island  I  was  her  per- 
tickler  gal.  I  was  older'n  she  was,  but  I  tended  her. 
'Member  her  ?  I  loved  her  best  of  all  till  little  Miss 
Ginny  come.  Wasn't  she  grand,  though  !  She  was 
jess  Beaufort  from  head  to  foot — only  sweeter.  But 
who  is  you,  Masr  ?  " 

Mr.  Mather's  head  had  sunk  on  his  breast,  as  if  op- 
pressed by  these  reminiscences.  Without  lifting  his 
face  he  now  responded  in  a  low,  unsteady  voice,  "  Did 
you  ever  see  her  husband  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  is  you  him  ?  "  cried  the  old  woman,  breaking 
into  a  whimper  and  lifting  her  hands  in  thanks.  "  O 
Masr,  you's  come  to  help  us,  fur  sartin — you's  come  to 
help  Miss  Ginny.  I  know'd  it  befo'  you  opened  the  do'. 
Praise  de  Lawd,  what  sont  you  !  " 

The  bereaved  man  made  a  great  struggle  for  speech 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  33 

and  answered  slowly,  "  Yes,  he  sent  me,  by  one  of  his 
angels." 

"An'  Miss  Lizabeth,  whar  is  she?"  asked  Aunt 
Chloe,  little  guessing  how  terrible  was  the  query  to 
her  visitor. 

The  widower  did  not  reply  at  once.  Just  at  this 
moment  he  felt  all  the  might  of  his  sorrow,  his  years, 
and  his  invalidism.  His  thin  white  lips  moved  repeat- 
edly before  he  could  send  an  audible  word  through 
them.  At  last  he  said,  with  unexpected  and  spasmodic 
and  almost  startling  force,  "  She  is  gone  !  " 

"  O  Masr  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Chloe.  "  Oh,  'tain't 
possible,  Masr  !  "  Then,  stricken  with  sudden  pity,  and 
with  a  desire  to  give  consolation,  she  added,  "  De  Lawd 
he  wants  his  saints  near  him." 

Uncle  Phil,  rubbing  his  horny  hands  apologetically, 
ventured  to  offer  his  mite  of  compassion.  "  Boss,  it's 
hard  times  for  all  of  us,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  mumbled.  "  But 
you  has  the  hardest." 

There  was  a  brief  silence,  during  which  Mather 
rested  his  elbow  on.  his  knee  and  his  chin  in  his  hand, 
while  he  gazed  fixedly  at  the  floor.  At  last  he  an- 
swered, with  a  deep  sigh  :  "  Yes,  I  have  the  hardest.  I 
am  worth  a  great  fortune,  and  yet  I  am,  perhaps,  the 
poorest  of  us  three — the  poorest  in  happiness.  Ah,  dear  ! 
Separations  are  too  much  for  the  old  and  feeble.  The 
young  and  strong  can  bear  them.     I  can'ty 

"Masr,"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  "jess  now  I  thought  we 
was  powerful  mis'able — the  mis'ablest  of  all  the  mis'able. 
The  Lawd  has  show'd  us  greater  trouble  than  ourn." 

There  was  nothing  extraordinary  in  the  poor,  rheu- 
matic creature's  lack  of  egoism.  From  childhood  she 
had  been  ruled  and  drilled  into  subordinating  her  ow^n 


34  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

thoughts  and  feelings  to  those  of  white  people.  Never- 
theless, Mather  seemed  struck  as  well  as  touched  by- 
hearing  so  much  sympathy  out  of  such  an  abyss  of  in- 
digence. Pie  looked  up  at  Aunt  Chloe  with  an  air  of 
surprise,  and  made  an  obvious  effort  to  recover  his  self- 
possession.  "  Your  trouble  can  be  helped,  I  trust,"  he 
said,  gently.  "  My  wife's  last  charge  was  to  care  for 
her  people.  What  can  you  tell  me  about  her  flesh  and 
blood  ?  " 

"Done  gone  dead,  Masr — all  but  Miss  Ginny,  an' 
her  aunt.  Miss  Anna,  if  so  be  she^s  alive.  De  ole  Curnel, 
Masr  Laurens  Beaufort,  Miss  Ginny's  father,  an'  Miss 
Lizabeth's  brother,  ye  know — he  cotched  fever  buildin' 
fo'ts  in  de  swamp  round  Georgetown,  an'  come  home 
to  die.  He  was  a  gen'leman,  Masr.  His  mem'ry  got 
mighty  poo'  at  las',  but  he  allays  'membered  he  was  a 
Beaufort — never  stopped  sayin'  it.  His  four  boys  was 
killed  in  battles.  Miss  May,  what  married  Curnel 
Manross,  she  died  up  to  C'lumby.  Only  Miss  Ginny 
left,  I  'spec's." 

Mather  inquired  where  Miss  Virginia  was,  and,  be- 
ing told  vaguely  that  she  had  gone  out,  stated  that  he 
would  wait  for  her. 

"  But,  Masr — "  began  the  old  Mauma,  with  an  air  of 
embarrassment — "  had'n  I  better  see  her  firs' — jess  to 
break  it  to  her,  kinder  ?  " 

"  Break  it  to  her  ?  "  stared  Mather.  "  Won't  she  see 
me?" 

"  Reckon  so,  Masr,"  hesitated  Aunt  Chloe.  "  Only, 
she's  mightily  stirred  up,  she  is.  She  don  jess  have 
much  patience,  when  she  'members  it  all." 

"  Ye  see.  Boss,  she's  had  a  heap  o'  trouble,"  put  in 
Uncle  Phil.     "  You  mus'n  mind  her.  Boss." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  35 

"  Is  she  crazy  ?  "  asked  the  visitor. 

"  No,  Boss — she  has  her  senses,"  explained  the  old 
man.  *'  But  she's  kinder  mad — mad  agin  Yankees.  She 
calls  'em  hard  names,  and  keeps  kinder  clar  of  'em. 
Don  ye  see.  Boss  ?  it's  Beaufort  style,  dat  is.  Dey  was 
allays  powerful  fur  sperrit." 

"Oh,  I  know  the  family,"  said  Mather,  bitterly. 
"  Not  ten  letters  to  my  angel  of  a  wife  in  her  thirty 
years  of  marriage  !  But  won't  this  mad  girl  speak  to 
an  old  man  who  wants  to  befriend  her  ?  It  passes  all 
belief." 

"  Ye  see,  Masr,  she's  los'  so  many  !  "  pleaded  Mauma 
Chloe.  "  It's  'mazin'  how  dat  ar  f am'ly  has  gone  up. 
Reckon  nobody  ever  did  have  s'many  uncles  'n'  aunts 
'n'  cousins  as  d'  ole  Curnel ;  an'  now  d'  ain't  a  single  one 
of  'em  outside  de  grabeyard-fence.  An'  dey  all  fotched 
her  up  to  be  so  fierce  agin  Yankees  !  Oh,  de  sperrit  dar 
was  in  dat  ar  fam'ly  !  Dey  was  powerful  livin',  an' 
powerful  dyin'." 

"  Miss  May,  now,"  suggested  Uncle  Phil.  "  Tell  him 
'bout  Miss  May." 

"Does  ye  'member  hearin'  of  her,  Masr?"  began 
Aunt  Chloe.  "She  was  older  sister  to  Miss  Ginny. 
Her  husban'  was  killed,  'bout  the  end  of  the  wah,  fightin' 
'long  with  Gin'ral  Lee.  Dey  mostly  called  her  Raven — 
Raven  Beaufort.  It  was  a  kind  o'  joke  dey  had,  'cause 
she  was  so  white.  She  was  jess  de  whitest  thing  ever 
you  see — real  milk  skin,  an'  hair  like  sunshine  in  de 
mornin';  an'  sechejes — blue  as  de  good  Lordy's  heaven. 
Well,  she  was  in  C'lumby — we  was  mostly  in  C'lumby — 
when  Gin'ral  Sherman  he  marched  in.  De  cullud  folks 
had  been  lookin'  fur  him,  Masr,  like  fur  de  glory  of  de 
Lawd  ;  but  his  chariot  was  a  good  while  in  comin',  an 


36  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

so  we'd  flopped  down  to  sleep.  Reckon  'twas  after  mid- 
night a  spell  when  I  heerd  de  scared  white  folks  a  racin' 
by,  an  putty  soon  a  gret,  solemn  rumblin'  an'  trampin'. 
Miss  Raven  she  was  fast  asleep,  an'  her  baby  'longside 
of  her.  I  was  so  wild  an'  full  o'  joy  I  never  stopped  to 
think  how  she'd  take  it — never  thought  to  'member  what 
sawt  o'  sperrit  all  de  Beauf  orts  had  in  'em.  I  shook  her, 
an'  says  I,  '  Miss  Raven,  yere's  de  Yankees.' " 

*'  Wish  you  wasn't  thar,"  struck  in  Uncle  Phil. 

"  So  /  do,"  groaned  Aunt  Chloe.  "  But  what's  did, 
's  did.  ^Yell,  she  got  right  up,  in  her  night-cloes,  long 
yellow  hair  down  her  back,  an'  took  a  pistil  out  from 
under  her  pillow." 

"  Dat's  so — so  did,"  murmured  Uncle  Phil. 

"  Looked  awful,"  continued  Aunt  Chloe,  *'  Her  eyes 
v/as  a-shinin' — an'  she  was  all  white,  like  a  sperrit — white 
does  an'  white  face.  Next  thing,  she  was  out  o'  do', 
befo'  I  could  cotch  her.  Dar  was  de  Yankees — you 
could  see  'em  by  de  light  of  de  burnin' — great  black 
column  from  curbstone  to  curbstone — dar  dey  come  ! 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp — couldn'  see  no  end  to  'em." 

*'  It  vv^as  kinder  skeery.  Boss,"  shuddered  Uncle  Phil. 
"  Seemed  's  though  the  yeath  was  full  of  'em — like  the 
las'  day  come,  an'  the  dead  risin'." 

-*'So  did,  Masr,"  assented  Aunt  Chloe,  solemnly. 
"Believe  I  shouted — I  was  so  possest.  An'  den  she 
fotched  a  scream.  Miss  Raven  did — never  heerd  no  such 
a  scream  befo'  or  sence — an'  up  with  her  pistil  an'  fired 
— yes,  Masr,  fired  right  into  'em." 

"  The — mad- woman  !  "  exclaimed  Mather. 

"  Beaufort  grit.  Boss,"  said  Uncle  Phil.  "  Dey  was 
all  like  dat — was  so." 

"  Did  the  troops  fire  back  ?"  Mather  inquired,  eagerly. 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  37 

"No,  Masr,"  returned  Aunt  Chloe.  "Didn'  fire, 
nor  stop,  nor  dodge,  nor  speak,  nuther.  Dey  jess  come 
on,  all  de  same  ;  come  on  like  a  gret  black  flood — slow 
an'  silent  an'  steady.  Didn'  take  no  notice  of  her  ; 
didn'  take  no  notice  of  nothin'.  Seemed  like  it  was  a 
black,  monsous  dream." 

"  An'  den  Miss  Raven — "  put  in  Uncle  Phil,  urging 
on  the  story. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Raven,"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  "  she  dropped 
dead — right  dar  in  her  tracks  ;  yes,  Masr — dead  !  " 
.    "  What !  "  gasped  Mather.     "  Did  any  man  fire  ?  " 

"Xo,  Masr  ;  didn'  fire  ;  didn'  look  at  her  ;  tramped 
right  by  without  noticin'  ;  an'  she  lyin'  dar  till  we  ker- 
ried  her  in.  It  bruck  her  heart  to  see  de  Yankees  ;  her 
heart  jess  bust  right  dar  an'  den." 

"Dat's  de  kind  o'  stuff  Beauforts  is,"  commented 
Uncle  Phil.  "  Grit  to  de  las'  bref.  If  dey  can't  whip, 
it  kills  'em." 

There  was  a  silence  of  some  seconds.  Then  Mather 
muttered,  as  if  speaking  to  himself  :  "  Well — I  shall  find 
the  girl  bitter.     I  shall  do  little  good  here." 

"Masr,  I  hopes  you'll  see  her — arter  we's  tole  her 
'bout  you,"  pleaded  Aunt  Chloe.  "  I  icatits  you  to  see 
her.  She's  mighty  poo'  and  mighty  pitiful.  An'  she's 
mighty  han'some  an'  peart  too  ;  peartest  Beaufort  gal 
sence  Miss  Lizabeth.  Some  Beaufort  women  has  been 
peart  an'  some  hasn't  ;  'peared  like  it  took  putty  much 
all  deir  senses  to  'member  dey  was  Beauforts  ;  had'n  no 
liveliness  leff  fur  anythin'  else.  But  Miss  Ginny  ain't 
tiresome  ;  she  kin  say  things  an'  do  things.  Laws,  masr  ! 
if  you  should  see  her — ef  you  should  hear  her  sing  jess 
once — you'd  want  to  make  up  with  her  ;  you'd  set  you' 
heart  on  it." 


38  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Yes,  I  must  see  her,"  assented  Mather.  "  A  charge 
has  been  laid  upon  me.     I  must  keep  it." 

At  this  moment  Uncle  Phil  pricked  up  his  ears, 
walked  hastily  to  one  of  the  two  little  front  windows, 
and  then  whispered,  "  Heah  she  is  !  " 

Mather  started  ;  the  idea  of  facing  the  last  of  the 
Beauf  orts  seemed  to  cow  him  :  he  glanced  toward  the 
yard  in  rear  of  the  shanty  and  asked,  "  Shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  No,  Masr — too  late  now,"  murmured  Aunt  Chloe. 
*'  We  mus'  all  talk  to  onct,  an'  talk  de  bes'  we  kin. " 


CHAPTER  Y. 

The  young  lady  who  entered  the  shanty  looked  a 
very  suitable  person  to  bear  the  character  of  the  last  of 
a  notable  family. 

She  was  handsome  enough  to  justify  Aurit  Chloe's 
affirmations  as  to  her  beauty.  Her  dark  hazel  eyes  were 
brilliant,  her  chestnut  eyebrows  were  delicately  penciled, 
and  her  brown  hair  was  thick,  glossy,  and  wavy.  Her 
features  were  as  regular  as  one  often  sees  in  real  life 
and  her  complexion — a  medium  brunette — was  slightly 
flushed  with  color.  Throughout  the  whole  fine  oval  of 
the  youthful  face,  moreover,  there  was  a  high-bred  air 
which  greatly  increased  its  charm.  The  figure,  too,  was 
admirable,  and  showed  to  great  advantage  through  a 
simple  '' baby- waist,"  although  the  stuff  of  the  dress 
was  the  very  coarsest  and  cheapest  calico.  In  age  she 
was  then  nineteen  ;  but  a  girlhood  of  agitations  and 
sorrows  had  matured  her  early  ;  and  she  had  the  ex- 
pression, if  not  the  appearance  in  all  respects,  of  being 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  39 

two  or  three  and  twenty.  All  through  the  singular 
scene  which  follows  we  must  remember  that  she  was 
still  in  a  period  of  life  which  is  ruled  by  emotion  rather 
than  by  judgment. 

Aunt  Chloe  spoke  first.  "Is  you  come,  honey?" 
she  said,  with  a  wheedling  tone  and  a  placating  smile. 
"  I'se  so  glad  !     We's  be'n  a-lookin'  fur  ye." 

Virginia  Beaufort  bowed  slightly  to  the  stranger, 
quietly  set  down  her  large,  shabby  clothes-basket,  and 
then  turned  to  the  old  woman  with  a  grave  gaze  of  in- 
quiry. Her  manner  was  entirely  self-possessed  and  dig- 
nified, and  her  expression  had  a  seriousness  very  pathetic 
in  one  so  young. 

*'  Yere's  a  gen'leman  wants  ter  see  ye,"  continued 
Aunt  Chloe,  still  seeking  to  smile  away  the  gravity  of 
the  situation.     "  One  of  your  uncles.  Miss  Ginny." 

Mr.-  Mather  advanced  with  an  air  of  hesitation,  but 
resolutely  extended  his  hand.  "  I  am  most  happy  to 
find  you.  Miss  Beaufort,"  he  said.  Then,  with  a  sudden 
revulsion  to  reserve,  near  akin  to  defiance,  he  added, 
"  My  name  is  Mather." 

Virginia  had  given  her  hand  mechanicallv,  and  she 
now  quietly  withdrew  it.  "  I  have  heard  of  you,  sir," 
was  her  cool  reply.     "How  is  my  aunt  ?" 

"  She  is  well — well  for  ever  !  "  sighed  the  bereaved, 
worn  old  man.  He  was  looking  at  vacancy  now — at 
least  not  at  Virginia. 

"Is  it  possible  ! "  the  girl  whispered,  comprehending 
him  instantly.  After  a  brief  silence,  during  which  she 
glanced  once  at  his  shaken  face,  she  continued  in  a 
steady,  low  voice:  "I  am  sincerely  grieved.  Be  good 
enough  to  sit  down." 

"Miss   Ginny  understan's,"  muttered  Uncle   Phil, 


40  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

with  something  like  pride.     "  We's  used  ter  dat  sawt  o' 
news." 

Mather  sank  into  the  rush-bottomed  chair,  and  rested 
his  head  against  his  hand.  The  young  lady  gazed  sober- 
ly at  him,  and  the  old  Mauma  sobbed  aloud.  After 
a  little  silence  the  widower,  an  invalid  as  well  as  a 
mourner,  we  must  remember,  raised  his  tearful  eyes  to 
Virginia's  face,  and  said  feebly  :  "  The  sight  of  you  re- 
calls so  much  !     You  have  your  aunt's  eyes  and  hair." 

"  So  have  !  "  exclaimed  Mauma  Chloe.  "  Mouf,  too, 
Masr,  when  she  laughs.  I  hain't  done  f o'get  Miss  Liza- 
beth's  little  laugh.     Never  shall." 

"I  never  saw  her,"  said  Miss  Beaufort,  as  cold  as  a 
statue.  It  was  evident  that  she  had  already  deter- 
mined not  to  be  surprised  into  friendliness. 

Mather  gazed  at  her  with  an  air  of  disappointment, 
rather  than  of  anger.  "  There  was  bad  blood,"  he  mur- 
mured. "  It  was  not  her  fault.  Well,  it  was  not  yours, 
either.  I  blame  no  one  now.  I  have  come  here  in  all 
possible  friendliness.  The  war  is  over.  Everything  is 
over.  Let  us  begin  again.  Miss  Beaufort,  I  should  like 
to  renew  amity  with  your  family." 

It  was  now  the  orphan's  turn  to  be  shaken.  She  sat 
down  upon  the  washing-bench  and  covered  her  face. 
"My  family!"  she  sobbed;  "where  is  it?"  Then, 
looking  up  passionately,  she  added  in  a  strident  voice, 
"  Don't  you  know  where,  it  is  ?  Buried  on  the  battle- 
field ! " 

Mr.  Mather  shook  his  head  softly  and  waved  his  hand 
gently.  "  I  come  in  obedience  to  my  wife's  charge,"  he 
repeated.  "  You  can  accept  the  good-will  of  your  own 
blood,  can't  you  ? — of  the  dead,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes — I  suppose  so,"  gasped  the  girl.     "  There 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  41 

is  no  other  good-will  for  me.  Every  one  that  ever  owed 
me  any  good-will  is  dead  and  buried." 

"  No,  no,  Miss  Ginny  !  "  pleaded  Aunt  Chloe,  touched 
and  frightened  by  the  grief  and  despair  of  her  darling. 

"  I  forgot  you  two,"  said  Virginia,  glancing  at  the 
old  couple  through  her  tears. 

"  An'  dis  yere  gen'leman,"  insisted  Chloe.  "  He's 
come  all  de  way  from  dem  foreign  States  to  look  arter 
ye,  chile." 

The  daughter  of  the  Southland  shook  her  head  in 
petulant  incredulity.  She  was  saying  to  herself  that  of 
course  he  had  his  business  ;  that  Yankees  always  had 
money  on  their  minds — the  busy,  eager  vultures  ! 

"  I  shall  not  live  so  very  long.  Miss  Beaufort,  as  to 
be  a  burden  to  you,"  resumed  Mather.  "  I  am  likely 
soon  to  be  one  of  those  from  whom  you  can  accept 
good-will." 

"I  don't  wish  you  dead,  sir,"  answered  the  girl, 
looking  him  full  and  honestly  in  the  face,  but  with  no 
sympathy  in  her  expression — only  suppressed  aversion. 
"Why  should  I ?  Death  or  life,  it  makes  no  difference 
— none  to  me.  I  never  can  accept  a  favor  from  a 
Northerner." 

The  old  Bostonian  undoubtedly  regarded  this  as 
Southern  rant  or  Southern  wickedness  ;  and  his  pallid, 
prim  countenance  showed  a  displeasure  which  was  nearly 
akin  to  disgust.  But  he  remembered  his  business  train- 
ing, and  strove  to  be  calm,  practical,  and  logical.  "  I 
should  like,"  he  said,  "  to  hear  your  reasons  in  plain, 
simple  English." 

"  A  Beaufort  never  spoke  any  other  English,"  Vir- 
ginia flamed  out.  "  I  should  think  you  would  know  my 
reasons.     The  North  has  ruined  my  country — " 


42  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

"  Your  country  !  "  interrupted  Mather,  in  a  tone  of 
argument  which  he  meant  to  be  persuasive.  "Where 
is  your  country  ?     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  South  Carolina  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  evidently  in 
earnest — defiantly  in  earnest. 

The  inflamed  Unionist  was  so  angered  by  this  rebel- 
lious declaration  that  he  answered  with  a  bitter  laugh. 
"  Do  you  mean  the  whole  of  it,  or  only  the  low 
country?" 

Virginia  vouchsafed  no  reply  beyond  a  glare  of  in- 
dignation. The  two  antagonistic  ideas  of  American 
politics  faced  each  other  angrily  in  the  persons  of  this 
sickly  old  man  and  this  passionate,  impoverished  or- 
phan. The  man  picked  up  his  hat  with  a  shaking 
hand,  and  half  rose  as  if  about  to  depart.  Then  his  eye 
caught  the  troubled  face  of  Aunt  Chloe,  and,  drawing 
a  deep  breath,  he  slowly  fell  back  in  his  seat. 

Meantime  Uncle  Phil  sidled  up  to  his  young  mis- 
tress, and  said  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  Miss  Ginny,  'pears 
like  d'  ain't  no  use  in  dis  yere  talk." 

She  turned  upon  him  with  a  sharp  "  Be  silent ! " 

"  Uncle  Phil — "  said  Mather,  his  face  flushing. 

"  Sar  ? " 

"  We  must  all  be  silent  in  the  presence  of  our  born 
superiors." 

"Yes,  sar,"  responded  Uncle  Phil,  entirely  in  the 
dark  as  to  the  old  gentleman's  meaning,  but  knowing 
by  experience  that  it  was  good  to  say  "  Yes,  sar,"  to 
white  folks. 

"Mr.  Mather,  I  understand  your  satire,"  retorted 
Virginia.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  owe  you  any  apologies. 
You  are  not  over-gentle  yourself." 

The  veteran  abolitionist  and  Unionist  would,  per- 


THE  BLOODY   CHASM.  43 

haps,  have  returned  bitterness  for  bitterness,  if  he  had 
not  happened  to  glance  at  Mauma  Chloe,  and  noted 
that  her  lips  were  moving  as  if  in  prayer.  Helped  to 
patience  by  the  pathos  of  this  spectacle,  he  bowed  his 
silvery  head  meekly,  and  said  :  "  I  know  it.  I  accept 
the  reproof.  I  am  a  sick  man,  Miss  Beaufort — sick  and 
irritable.  I  was  not  fit  to  come  on  this  errand.  But 
there  was  no  one  else." 

Gentleness  is  certainly  very  powerful.  The  sensitive 
and  vehement  girl  felt  that  she  was  put  upon  the  de- 
fensive. 

*'  I  want  to  justify  myself,"  she  answered,  in  a  soft- 
ened tone.  "You  think  very  little  of  my  State,  and 
that  I  ought  to  think  little  of  it.  But  how  is  it  with 
regard  to  my  family  ?  Am  I  to  care  nothing  for  that  ? 
Look  at  it !  "  Here  she  sprang  up,  and  stamped  her  foot 
with  a  sudden  throb  of  anguish  or  anger.  "  It  is  ruined 
and  slaughtered  !  I  haven't  a  brother  left.  I  haven't 
a  dollar  in  the  world.  My  old  father — "  But  at  this 
point  her  pathetic  declamation  broke  into  sobbing,  and 
came  to  an  end. 

"  Sit  down,  my  poor  child,"  begged  Mather,  sincere- 
ly affected.  After  gazing  at  her  pitifully  for  a  moment, 
he  added  :  "  We  are  both  mourners.  Wouldn't  it  be 
possible  for  us  both  to  forgive,  and  to  at  least  strive  to 
forget  ?  " 

But  the  child  of  the  crushed  South  was  implacable  ; 
mindful  only  of  her  own  sorrows,  she  retorted,  "  What 
have  you  to  forgive?" 

"  We  are  both  mourners,"  he  repeated,  dreamily,  as 
if  he  were  thinking  of  his  dead,  and  of  naught  besides. 

"  Oh,  I  remember,"  said  Virginia.  "  Well,  I  had  no 
quarrel  with  my  aunt." 


44  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  No  ;  you  were  too  young.  Nor  have  I  any  reason 
for  quarrel  with  you.  Indeed,  I  have  a  strong  reason 
for  seeking  your  good-will  and  amity.     I  desire  it  most 

earnestly." 

"  Do  make  up,  Miss  Ginny,  please  do  !  "  begged  Aunt 
Chloe.  "  Take  all  de  kindness  dat  de  Lawd  sends,  if 
its  ebber  so  much.  Mighty  poo'  bee  dat  don't  make 
mo'  honey  dan  he  wants." 

The  girl  pondered  for  a  little,  and  then,  with  a 
evident  effort,  asked,  "Well,  sir,  what  is  it  that  you 
wish  ?  " 

"  Dat's  de  kind  o'  talk  !  "  exclaimed  Uncle  Phil. 
"  Dat's  mighty  sensible,  dat  ar  is." 

"  I  will  be  clear  about  it,"  said  Mather.  "  I  propose 
to  take  you  North." 

•    Virginia  shook  her  head  ;  then  queried,  "  To  come 
back  ?  " 

"  I  propose  to  adopt  you,"  continued  Mather,  "  to 
finish  your  education,  if  that  is  needed  ;  also  to  leave 
you  a  part  of  my  fortune." 

"  O  Miss  Ginny  !  take  us  'long  with  you,"  besought 
Aunt  Chloe,  not  doubting  but  that  the  offer  would  be 
accepted. 

But  the  girl's  expression  changed  slowly  from 
thoughtf ulness  to  sullenness.  "  I  am  to  be  picked  up, 
like  a  beggar-girl,"  she  muttered.  "  Yes,  and  I  am  a 
beggar  ! " 

"  No,  Miss  Ginny  ;  not  s'  long  's  we  kin  work,"  put 
in  Uncle  Phil,  with  exceeding  unwisdom. 

"  Shut  you  mouf,  you  big  fool,  you  !  "  whispered 
Aunt  Chloe,  who  was  ready  to  cuff  and  kick  her  no7i 
compos  of  a  brother. 

But  mischief  had   been  done.      The   high-spirited, 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  45 

hair-brained  child  gave  Phil  a  bright  smile  and  thanked 
him  for  his  stupid  devotion. 

"  Yes,  we  can  all  work — so  far,"  she  added.     "  We 
are  not  quite  beggars.     We  have  nearly  a  dollar  among- 
us,"  she  laughed,  with  affected  gayety. — "  There,  aunty, 
take  it  and  get  some  dinner.    We  must  show  Mr.  Math- 
er Southern  hospitality." 

Chloe  snatched  the  money,  handed  it  to  the  unlucky 
Phil,  and  pushed  him  savagely  out  of  the  shanty. 

Mather  had  shown  no  irritation  under  the  girl's 
levity,  and  he  was  greatly  moved  by  this  revelation  of 
poverty.  "  Had  you  nothing  in  the  house  ?  "  he  asked, 
putting  his  hand  to  his  pocket. 

"  Stop,  sir  !  "  broke  out  Virginia,  angered  by  the  gest- 
ure. "  Don't  you  dare  take  out  your  purse  !  Marion 
could  dine  on  potatoes,"  she  added,  proudly  remember- 
ing South  Carolina's  almost  mythical  hero.  "  We  shall 
have  more  than  that." 

"  O  Miss  Ginny,  you's  so  awful  tart !  "  whimpered 
Aunt  Chloe.  Then,  turning  to  Mather,  she  urged  :  "  Don 
you  mind  her  ways,  sar.     She's  nothing  but  a  chile." 

"  Go  on  and  buy  the  dinner,"  Virginia  called  to  Un- 
cle Phil,  who  still  lingered  in  the  doorway.  ^'  Mauma 
Chloe,  sit  down,"  she  rattled  on.  "I'll  get  the  water. — 
You  will  please  excuse  me,  Mr.  Mather ;  Aunt  Chloe 
will  entertain  you." 

This  final  speech  was,  of  course,  a  hit  at  the  sup- 
posed love  of  the  Yankee  for  the  nigger,  and  Virginia 
probably  hoped  that  its  sarcasm  would  irritate  Mather 
into  quitting  her  presence.  She  was  seeking  a  quarrel ; 
striving  to  draw  from  wrath  the  strength  to  utterly  re- 
ject his  advances — striving  to  nerve  herself  to  behave 
as  became  a  Southerner  and  a  Beaufort. 


46  THE  BLOODY  CEASM, 


CHAPTER   VI. 


Me.  Mather  gravely  waited  while  Virginia  went 
out  for  water  and  returned  with  it. 

He  hoped,  of  course,  that  she  would  tire  of  her  pet- 
ulant defiance,  and  voluntarily  accord  him  an  opportu- 
nity to  renew  his  friendly  negotiation.  But  she  paid  no 
attention  to  him.  She  busied  herself  with  kindling  a 
fire  on  her  poverty-stricken  hearth.  If  she  spoke,  it  was 
to  Mauma  Chloe  and  about  culinary  matters.  At  last 
his  little  stock  of  patience  gave  out,  and,  rising  tremu- 
lously from  his  chair,  he  said,  in  a  tone  which  he  vainly 
sought  to  render  calm,  "  This  means,  I  suppose,  that  you 
decline  my  offer  ?  " 

"  I  never  will  touch  a  Yankee  dollar — never  ! "  af- 
firmed Virginia,  without  looking  up  from  her  pottering. 

"  I  wish  to  relieve  my  soul  of  all  responsibility,"  he 
replied,  solemnly.  "  Do  you  decline  the  whole  of  my 
offer  ? — the  residence  at  the  North  ? — the  education  ? — 
the  legacy  ?  or  do  you  merely  decline  some  particularly 
offensive  part  of  it  ?  The  word  dollar  is  such  a  gener- 
ality." 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  could  possibly  be  plainer,"  said 
the  obstinate  child,  still  pretending  to  be  busy  with  her 
fire.  "  If  I  should  ever  touch  one  Yankee  dollar,  the 
dead  of  all  those  battle-fields — every  brother  and  cousin, 
remember — they  would  haunt  me  for  ever." 

"  I  wish  to  clear  myself,"  insisted  Mather.  "  I,  too, 
have  the  dead  to  remember.  I  want  an  explicit  and 
unmistakable  answer,  and  not  a  figure  of  speech.  Do 
you  accept  any  part  of  my  offer  ?  " 

Virginia  rose  from  her  kneeling  posture  on  the  hearth 
and  faced  him,  flushed  either  with  the  effort  of  rising, 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  47 

or  with  anger.  *'  I  have  no  intention  of  being  vague, 
sir,"  she  said.  "  That  is  a  fling  at  Southern  eloquence, 
I  suppose.     I  will  not  touch  a  dollar  for  any  purpose." 

"  Do  you  refuse  to  go  North  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  refuse  the  education  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  need  it.  I  haven't  had  a  lesson  in  four 
years.     But  I  do  refuse  it." 

"  Do  you  refuse  the  legacy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that — of  course  !     Certainly  !  " 

"  Not  a  Yankee  dollar  ?  "  repeated  Mather,  with  a 
sarcastic  and  indis^nant  sinile. 

"  Never  !  "  exclaimed  Virginia,  thoroughly  infuri- 
ated by  his  tone  and  expression.  "  Look  here  I  I  may 
as  well  be  frank  with  you.  I  hate  the  whole  race.  I 
hate  everything  that  they  are  and  have.  I  can't  express 
to  you  my  aversion.  Why  shouldn't  I  hate  them  ?  My 
country  in  ruins — my  family  exterminated — their  work  ! 
As  for  you — well,  I  owe  you  thanks  for  your  good  in- 
tentions, and  I  ought  perhaps  to  have  been  calmer  and 
gentler.     But  I  couldn't  be — no,  I  couldn't  !  " 

Mather  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  floor,  wearied  of  this 
image  of  rebeldom.  Then,  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  he 
muttered,  "I  believe  I  have  had  all  the  patience  that 
could  be  asked  of  me." 

**'  I  haven't  asked  any,"  returned  Virginia. 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  you,"  he  sighed,  without  lift- 
ing his  eyes.  "  I  was  thinking  of  my  wife  and  her 
charge." 

"  O  Mas'r,  don  quit  thinkin'  of  it,"  broke  in  Mauma 
Chloe.  "  You's  had  a  mighty  heap  o'  patience.  But 
don  tire  on't,  Mas'r.  Don  mind  dis  yere  chile's  high- 
ty-tighty  talk.     She's  jess  a  spiled  baby,  what  I  spiled 


48  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

myself.  She  don  know  nothin'  wliat's  good  for  her  ; 
don  know  nothin'  'bout  the  world  at  all,  nohow  ;  jess 
gabbles  like  she  was  on  a  jogglin'-board." 

"  Don't  know  the  world  ! "  Virginia  laughed,  angrily. 
"I  know  the  sorrow  of  it,  at  all  events." 

Mather  gazed  at  her  vacantly.  He  seemed,  half  the 
time,  to  be  musing  of  some  one  else.  It  may  have  been 
of  the  wife  whom  he  had  lately  buried  ;  it  may  have 
been  of  the  nephew  who  gave  him  so  much  anxiety. 
Of  a  sudden,  a  fresh  light — the  flash  of  a  new  and  star- 
tling idea  or  purpose — came  into  his  faded,  dreamy  eyes. 
He  looked  a  little  cruel,  if  not  a  little  crazy,  as  he  settled 
his  gaze  on  the  girl  and  said,  "  I  will  make  one  more 
proposition." 

Virginia,  as  if  daunted  by  his  expression,  made  a 
hasty  negative  gesture,  and  replied,  "  Excuse  me  from 
hearing  it." 

The  old  man  turned  his  back  upon  her  and  addi'essed 
himself  to  the  negress.  "  Aunt  Chloe,  I  will  talk  to 
you,"  he  began.  **Ihave  a  nephew — a  young  man — 
young  and  handsome.  He  is  to  be  my  heir.  Of  course, 
I  wish  him  to  marry." 

"  Of  co'se  you  doos,  Mas'r,"  broke  out  the  woman 
in  Mauma  Chloe. 

"He  is  rich  enough  already,"  continued  Mather. 
"  But  I  shall  leave  him  a  large  fortune — at  least  five 
hundred  thousand  dollars — so  much  in  any  case.  If  he 
should  marry,  and  marry  according  to  my  choice,  I  shall 
double  that.  His  wife  will  have  half  a  million  as  a 
dowry." 

"  Is  dat  ar  a  big  heap  o'  money,  Masr  ?  "  asked  the 
old  woman,  trembling  visibly,  and  throwing  a  glance  of 
piteous  anxiety  and  pleading  at  Virginia. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  49 

"  Miss  Beaufort  will  be  able  to  explain  to  you  that 
it  is,"  said  Mather.  He  paused  a  moment,  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  then  added  firmly  :  *'  I  desire  to  devote 
it  to  her  support  and  comfort.  I  desire  to  see  my 
wife's  niece  and  my  sister's  son  rich  and  happy  to- 
gether." 

A  moment  of  awful  silence,  during  w^hich  it  seemed 
as  if  hearts  stopped  beating,  followed  this  extraordinary 
announcement.  Then  Aunt  Chloe  exclaimed,  in  shrill 
excitement,  "  Sar  !  does  you  mean  to  give  all  dat  money 
to  Miss  Ginny  ?  " 

"  If  she  ever  marries  my  nephew,"  he  answered — "  if 
she  renews  between  our  families  the  bond  of  relation- 
ship." 

The  old  Mauma  limped  toward  the  girl  with  her 
hands  extended  and  her  knees  bent,  as  if  she  were  about 
to  fall  on  the  floor  in  supplication.  "  O  Miss  Ginny  ! '» 
she  begged  ;  "  oh,  please  be  good  an'  sensible  !  Please 
hark  to  ole  aunty  ! " 

Virginia  stood  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  floor.  Her 
face  had  turned  to  a  sort  of  sea-shell  whiteness,  with 
the  exception  of  a  small  crimson  spot  in  either  cheek. 
She  looked  very  beautiful,  but  also  very  obdurate.  At 
last  she  broke  forth,  in  a  loud,  gasping  whisper,  "  It  is 
outrageous  !  " 

"  Oh,  my  chile  !  "  besought  the  negress.  "  Don 
be  a  spiled,  contrary  baby  !  Do  stop  an'  reckon  befo' 
you  says  another  word  !  Do  have  marcy  on  you'self, 
for  ole  Mauma's  sake  !  " 

But  Beaufort  blood,  and  the  pride  of  ancient  lineage, 

and  the  intense  anger  of  the  beaten  South,  and  the  still 

fiercer  wrath  of  personal  bereavement,  rose  victorious 

over  intercession  and  temptation.     Virginia   suddenly 

3 


50  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

ran  out  of  the  back  door  into  the  narrow,  dirty,  and 
evil-scented  yard  in  rear  of  the  shanty. 

"  WonH  you  say  somethin'  good  ?  "  pleaded  Aunt 
Chloe,  following  her  to  the  door  and  calling  after  her. 

A  sobbing  voice  answered  from  without,  "  Tell  him 
7iever  ! — I  never  will !  " 

The  unhappy  Mauma  turned  and  gazed  at  Mather 
with  a  countenance  of  despair.  The  blood  had  forsaken 
her  v/rinkled  face,  and  her  reddish-brown  color  had 
changed  to  an  ashy  yellow.  She  was  crying  aloud,  like 
a  child  in  pain. 

The  old  man  did  not  seem  to  notice  her  distress  ;  he 
was  for  the  moment  much  too  angry  to  be  pitiful.  "  IS'ot 
a  Yankee  dollar  !  "  he  repeated,  with  a  bitter  smile. 
"  Not  a  dirtv  dollar  !  " 

"O  Masr,  don  go  jess  yit,"  prayed  Aunt  Chloe 
through  her  sobs.  "  She'll  come  back.  She's  jess  like 
all  young  gals — mighty  skittish  an'  onsartin.  She'll 
think  on't  ;  suah  to  think  on't.  I  knows  she'll  come  to 
want  to  make  up  ;  an'  you'll  want  to,  too,  Masr.  Ef 
you  could  see  her  when  she's  quiet,  an'  see  how  she 
looks  and  behaves  like  her  own  aunty  what's  gone  to 
glory,  you  would'n'  let  go  of  her.     Masr,  you  could'''rCr 

Mather  had  wheeled  toward  the  street  door,  but  his 
steps  were  as  unsteady  as  a  sick  man's,  and  he  was  evi- 
dently very  much  shaken.  All  at  once  he  put  one  hand 
to  his  heart,  sank  down  feebly  into  the  rush-bottomed 
chair,  and  sat  in  silence  with  closed  eyes.  His  milky- 
white  face  had  such  an  expression  of  mere  weariness 
and  listlessness  that  Aunt  Chloe  feared  lest  she  had  not 
moved  him,  and  recommenced  her  supplications. 

"  Oh,  to  think  'at  dat  ar  chile  what  I  fotched  up 
should  make  me  so  mis'able  !  "  she  moaned.     "  I's  as 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  51 

mis'able  'bout  it  as  you  is,  Masr.  But  she'll  come  roun'. 
Dar's  ever  s'  much  sense  in  her,  way  down.  Dar's  ever 
b'  much  smartness.  Never  was  no  Beaufort  smarter'n 
dat  ar  hussy.  Wish  you  could  hear  her  talk  when  she 
ain't  stirred  up  thinkin'  'bout  de  wah.  You'd  want  her 
to  live  in  you'  own  house  all  you'  life.  An'  oh,  ef  you 
could  hear  her  sing,  Masr  ! — jess  hear  her  sing  once  ! — 
you'd  ask  her  to  stay  with  you,  like  Abraham  did  the 
angels." 

Mather  lifted  his  face  with  an  expression  of  desire 
and  hope  which  was  almost  a  smile.  Virginia's  singing, 
he  recollected,  was  to  have  saved  his  nephew  from  the 
musical  wiles  of  that  Irish  Lorelei,  and  from  peril  of 
conversion  to  papacy. 

"  Ah,  dear  !  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  done  my 
whole  duty,"  he  sighed.  "  Still,  she  shall  have  time 
to  think  of  it.  I  will  so  make  my  will  as  to  give  her 
time.  She  shall  have  half  a  million,  on  the  death  of 
her  husband,  if  that  husband  is  my  nephew.  When 
she  comes  in,  tell  her  that,  and  tell  her  to  think  of  it. 
If  she  wishes  to  see  me  again,  or  to  write  to  me,  I  am 
at  the  Charleston  Hotel." 

Aunt  Chloe  brimmed  over  with  quavering  thanks 
and  benedictions.  "  You  won't  never  be  sorry,  Masr," 
she  promised.  "  De  young  gen'leman  won't  be  sorry, 
nuther.  Dey  makes  good  wives  —  Beaufort  women 
doos — ef  dey  is  spunky.      You  knows  it,  Masr." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  said  Mather,  wiping  his  eyes.  He 
glanced  toward  the  back  door  and  listened  a  moment. 
"  She  won't  come  in,"  he  added,  with  an  air  of  disap- 
pointment and  vexation.  Then,  rising  slowly,  he  drew 
a  large  pocket-book  from  the  breast  of  his  coat,  and 
gave  it  to  the  old  woman.     Hide  that,"  he  whispered. 


52  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  It's  full  of  Yankee  dollars — the  things  she  hates.  And 
here  is  a  shake  of  a  Yankee  hand." 

"  God  bless  it,  Masr  !  "  wept  Aunt  Chloe.  "  Bless 
all  de  Yankee  han's.     Dey's  as  good  as  dey  is  strong." 

She  tried  to  kiss  his  hand,  but  he  gently  drew  it 
away  from  her,  glanced  once  more  at  the  back  door, 
and  then  went  forth  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  or,  as  Mr.  Mather  pre- 
ferred to  call  it,  the  Sabbath.  He  attended  the  Presby- 
terian service  in  the  morning,  dutifully  and  decently 
accompanied  by  his  relative,  the  ex-Colonel,  although 
the  latter  would  have  preferred  a  ritual  which  offered 
more  music  and  less  doctrine.  In  the  afternoon,  finding 
himself  very  weary,  possibly  from  the  excitement  of  the 
previous  day,  he  took  a  nap,  and  left  the  young  man  to 
his  own  devices.  Toward  supper-time  he  awoke  much 
refreshed,  read  a  chapter  or  two  in  his  small  traveling 
Bible,  and  began  to  ponder  his  double  duty  of  convert- 
ing his  rebellious  niece  to  Unionism  and  saving  his  be- 
wildered nephew  from  Popery.  He  was  growing  a  little 
nervous  and  fretful  over  the  double  problem,  when  Un- 
derhill  returned  from  a  stroll  and  entered  the  room. 
The  uncle  did  his  best  to  smile  cordially  and  to  speak  in 
a  tone  of  cheery  unconcern  ;  but,  in  spite  of  all,  there 
was  an  air  of  suspicion  about  him  as  he  said,  "  Well, 
sir,  and  where  have  you  been  ?  " 

It  so  happened  that  the  young  man  had  attended 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  53 

vespers  at  St.  Patrick's,  and  he  candidly  avowed  the 
fact,  although  he  could  not  have  wished  to  do  so. 

"What  for?"  grumbled  Mather,  his  cheerfulness 
vanishing  at  once, — so  well  did  he  know  the  reason 
which  he  demanded. 

Underhill  foresaw  a  disagreeable  discussion,  but  his 
health  and  temper  were  good,  and  he  smiled  pleasantly 
as  he  replied,  "  To  tell  the  truth,  sir,  I  went  there  to 
hear  Miss  Macmorran  sing." 

"  Look  here,  Harry  !  "  broke  out  the  senior,  with  a 
face  of  sincere  distress,  "  I  don't  like  this.  I  can't  bear 
it.  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  Is  it  a  flirtation  ?  I  must 
say  that  I  think  nothing  quite  so  degrading  to  the  in- 
tellect and  morals  as  a  passion  for  cheap  conquests." 

"My  dear  uncle,  I  am  not  making  a  cheap  con- 
quest." 

"  No,  it  wouldn't  be  a  cheap  conquest  ;  it  would  be 
a  frightfully  dear  one." 

"I  don't  think  I  quite  understand  you,  sir.  Dear  to 
whom  ?  " 

"  Dear  to  yourself — very  costly  to  yourself." 

"  I  am  glad,  at  least,  that  you  consider  me  a  foolish 
fellow,  rather  than  a  bad  one." 

"  I  don't  charge  you  with  being  a  bad  fellow — not 
yet.  But  I  don't  know  how  it  will  terminate.  When 
a  man  courts  a  woman  far  beneath  him,  he  may  end  by 
being  either  a  knave  or  a  fool.  Where  do  you  expect 
to  end  ?  Not  in  marriage,  I  suppose  and  trust.  What 
can  a  young  gentleman  of  your  breeding  and  education 
do  with  a  commonplace,  uncultivated  wife  ?  " 

"It  hasn't  come  to  thinking  of  that,"  interrupted 
Harry,  rather  indignantly. 

"  Don't  try  to  head  me  off,"  answered  the  uncle  with 


64  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

equal  heat.  "  I  want  to  have  my  say  out.  Are  you 
prepared  to  turn  Papist  ?  I  presume  not.  Are  you  pre- 
pared to  sign  a  bond  engaging  yourself  to  educate  your 
children  as  Papists  ?  I  hope  not.  Then  what  is  the  use 
of  flirting  with  a  Catholic  girl  ?  It  can't  end  in  mar- 
riage." 

"  I  should  say  not,  decidedly." 

"  In  that  case,  why  not  let  this  girl  alone  ?  Why  do 
you  run  the  risk  of  troubling  her  imagination  and  ruin- 
ing her  peace  ?  " 

"  My  dear  uncle,  I  have  simply  been  to  hear  her  sing. 
I  didn't  speak  to  her,  nor  get  a  chance  to." 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Harry,  that  you,  with  the  surround- 
ings you  have,  might  find  your  music  otherwhere." 

"Well,  now,  not  so  very  easily.  I  don't  know  a 
single  young  lady  in  society  who  sings  like  this  girl." 

Mr.  Mather  rose  and  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the 
room,  with  his  hands  twisted  together  behind  his  back, 
and  his  head  bent  in  meditation.  Perhaps  he  was 
querying  whether  a  Christian  man  really  had  a  right  to 
draw  his  ass  out  of  a  pit  on  the  Sabbath-day.  Perhaps 
he  was  simply  pondering  how  best  to  introduce  his  proj- 
ect of  marriage  between  the  said  ass  and  Virginia  Beau- 
fort. After  two  or  three  turns  he  stopped  in  front  of 
his  nephew,  and  said  in  a  gentle  voice  and  with  a  faint 
smile,  "  Suppose  I  should  introduce  you  to  one  ?  " 

"  A  singer  ?  "  asked  Underhill,  staring  and  amused. 
"  I  should  like  it  prodigiously." 

The  uncle  took  another  ruminative  walk,  halted 
again  and  added  :  "I  am  trying  to  tame  a  beautiful 
young  rebel.     I  should  like  you  to  help  me." 

"  Just  give  me  a  chance  at  her,"  laughed  Harry. 

"  She  is  a  wonderful  singer.     So  they  tell  me." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  55 

"  I'll  promise  to  be  attentive  to  all  the  wonderful 
singers  that  you'll  show  me.    Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Miss  Virginia  Beaufort.  The  last  of  the  Beaufort 
name — the  last !     It  is  a  very  sad  case." 

"  Why,  she  is  a  connection  !  Why  shouldn't  I  see 
her  ?     I  should  like  very  much  to  call  on  her." 

]Mr.  Mather  was  obviously  gratified,  indeed  he  was 
pathetically  elated,  by  this  expression  of  interest.  He 
sat  down  by  the  young  man  and  told  him  the  whole 
story  of  Virginia  Beaufort's  calamities  and  grief — not 
even  omitting  her  bitterness. 

"  It  is  very  touching,"  said  Harry,  who  was  as  yet 
far  from  suspecting  his  uncle's  matrimonial  project. 
"  But  it  looks  like  a  desperate  case  for  reconstruction. 
All  the  same,  something  ought  to  be  done  for  her — I 
mean  in  the  financial  way." 

"  I  should  like  to  get  her  married  to  some  well-to-do 
young  IN'ortherner,"  cautiously  suggested  Mather. 

"  Yes  ;  but  what's  to  become  of  the  young  North- 
erner ?  "  Underbill  laughed.  "  He  would  have  to  turn 
rebel,  and  bond  himself  to  educate  his  children  as  rebels. 
What  I  meant  was  a  dowry,  and  let  her  find  her  own 
husband.     Couldn't  you  and  I  subscribe —  ?  " 

"  I  have  made  her  an  offer,"  interrupted  the  old  gen- 
tleman.    "I  hope  to  hear  from  her  to-morrow." 

"  Anything  that  I  can  do  in  the  way  of  courtesy  and 
attention,  sir  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

Mr.  Mather  fell  into  profound  thought,  twirling  his 
thumbs  nervously  around  each  other,  and  moving  his 
lips  as  if  he  were  arguing  earnestly  with  some  one. 
After  a  while  he  looked  up  with  an  air  of  confirmed 
resolution  and  said  :  "  I  have  a  plan  for  her.  I  think  I 
had  better  tell  you  frankly  all  about  it.     This  girl,  my 


56  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

wife's  niece,  is  behaving  like  a  madwoman.  You,  my 
sister's  son,  are  behaving  like  a  madman." 

"  There's  a  pair  of  us,"  conceded  the  ex-Colonel, 
smiling. 

*'  I  saw  her  yesterday,  and  I  thought  of  you,"  con- 
tinued the  uncle.  "  I  decided  then  and  there  what  to 
do  with  my  estate.  It  is  my  own,  you  know — morally 
as  well  as  legally — my  own  in  every  way.  I  owe  no 
man  anything." 

Underbill  was  attentive,  but  tranquil.  He  must  have 
divined  just  then  that  his  uncle's  fortune,  or  a  great  part 
of  it,  was  likely  to  slip  away  from  him.  But,  as  he  was 
well  off  in  his  own  right,  and  also  very  healthy  in  mind 
and  body,  he  bore  the  situation  easily.  After  arching  his 
eyebrows  pensively  for  a  moment,  he  said  :  "  Excuse  me, 
sir  ;  I  think  you  owe  something  to  the  community.  To 
a  certain  extent  we  get  and  keep  property  through  the 
protection  of  the  community." 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  old  capitalist,  emphatically  and 
proudly.  "  When  estates  are  as  large  as  mine,  they  are 
not  altogether  the  work  of  one  man.  I  am  glad  to  ac- 
knowledge my  debt  to  my  country  and  my  fellow-citi- 
zens. The  community — that  is,  its  works  of  piety  and 
beneficence — will  have  one  fifth  of  my  fortune." 

"  It  is  a  very  splendid  gift,  sir.    It  is  none  too  much." 

"The  other  four  fifths,"  continued  Mather,  "a  mill- 
ion of  dollars,  Harry — it  is  a  great  deal  of  money  ! — the 
other  four  fifths  will  go  to  you  and  Miss  Beaufort,  on 
condition — " 

Here  he  paused  a  moment.  On  the  brink  of  divulg- 
ing his  plan,  he  trembled  at  it.  There  was  a  possibility 
that  to  other  men,  and  especially  to  the  man  who  was 
principally  interested  in  it,  it  might  appear  like  lunacy. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  5T 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  somewhat  timorously  concluded, 
"  what  condition  do  you  propose  yourself  ?  " 

"I  really  don't  know,  sir,"  stammered  Harry,  who 
began  to  see  w^hither  the  conversation  was  leading. 
"  Thank  you,  for  your  great  good-will  and  generosity. 
I  am  sorry  to  talk  of  this  subject.  Of  course,  I  have  no 
right  to  propose  the  condition.  I  should  hope  it  would 
be  possible  and  comfortable." 

"  Marriage  !  "  pronounced  Mather,  as  if  he  were  or- 
dering it ;  and  immediately  asked,  anxiously,  "  What 
do  you  say  ?  " 

Underhill  looked  thunderstruck  and  antagonistic. 
He  drew  a  long  breath,  glanced  at  the  old  man's  eager 
face,  and  then  made  an  effort  to  gain  time. 

"  Yes ;  but  she  won't,  will  she  ?  "  he  prevaricated. 
"  She's  a  frantic  rebel,  you  tell  me." 

"  Well — that  is,  for  the  present,"  admitted  Mather, 
who  had  driven  many  a  bargain  in  his  life,  and  had  the 
air  of  driving  one  now.  "  I  don't  want  to  put  off  a  lu- 
natic on  to  you.  But  I  suppose  a  wedding-portion  of 
this  magnitude  will  restore  her  to  sanity." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  Harry  smiled,  not  very  merrily.  "  It 
seems  reasonable,  in  a  general  way,  to  hope  it.  But 
suppose  it  shouldn't,  then  how  about  me  f  What  sort 
of  a  chance  for  connubial  bliss  should  I  have  ?  What 
if  my  wife  should  secede  ?  I  can't  order  a  levy  of  three 
hundred  thousand  volunteers  to  bring  her  back." 

"  If  a  man  is  a  good  husband,  his  wife  doesn't  se- 
cede," said  Mather,  recollecting  his  own  happy  w^edded 
life. 

"  As  a  rule,  I  dare  say.  But,  my  dear  uncle,  this  is 
an  exceptional  case.  Here  is  one  of  your  high-strung, 
vindictive  Southern  girls  to  be  wedlocked  with  an  ex- 


58  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Colonel  of  the  Federal  forces.  The  very  honeymoon 
might  be  a  thirty-days'  battle.  She  would  hold  me  re- 
sponsible for  the  bombardment  of  Charleston.  I  should 
have  to  throw  up  field-works.  I  couldn't  say  *  United 
States,'  except  under  protection  of  a  flag  of  truce.  You 
wouldnH  like  to  see  me  driven  to  turn  Copperhead, 
would  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Mather  was  not  amused  at  this  raillery  ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  seemed  irritated.  "The  wedding-journey 
would  convert  her,"  he  affirmed.  "  Northern  comfort  and 
elegance  would  make  her  a  good  Unionist.  One  year  of 
married  life  would  turn  her  into  a  black  Republican." 

Harry  stared  at  his  potent  and  resolute  relative,  and 
uttered  the  embarrassed  laugh  of  a  man  who  is  at  his 
wits'  end. 

"  I  am  tremendously  scared,  uncle,"  he  said,  present- 
ly. "  Couldn't  you  detail  me  to  lighter  duty,  and  let 
somebody  else  storm  this  battery  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  not  heavy  duty,"  insisted  the  self- 
willed  old  capitalist  and  fretful  invalid.  "  You  will  not 
find  it  heavy  when  you  come  to  it.  You  remember  my 
wife,  Harry  ?  You  remember  our  life  together  ?  You 
remember  her  last  charge  to  me  ?  Z  remember — I  must 
remember  !  It  is  particularly  my  desire  that  my  sis- 
ter's son  should  marry  my  wife's  niece." 

"  I  understand  all  that,  sir,"  Underbill  bowed,  re- 
spectfully. *'  I  assure  you  that  I  sympathize  with  your 
recollections  and  feelings.  But  just  look  for  a  moment 
at  my  side  of  the  case.     A  man  ought  to  love  his  wife, 


BU*." 


"Wait  till  you  have  seen  her.  She  is  handsome 
enough  for  you — handsome  enough  for  King  Ahasuerus. 
She  is  a  wonderful  singer,  too — so  Hilton  and  others 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  59 

tell  me.     Finally,  she  is  a  lady— or  will  be  one  when 
this  rebel  craze  wears  out.     She  must  be  a  lady— my 

wife's  blood  !  " 

"Ah!  well,  we'll  see,"  promised  Harry,  inclining 
his  head  thoughtfully,  and  then  laughing  once  more, 
like  a  man  utterly  nonplused.  "  Of  course,  I  must  have 
a  look  at  her  first.  We  can't  be  married  by  proxy,  like 
kings  and  queens.  I  should  like  just  a  word  with  her 
before  the  ceremony  takes  place." 

"Certainly  you  will  see  her  and  have  a  word  with 
her,"  answered  the  uncle,  pettishly. 

"  By  Jove  !  I'm  afraid  I  shall  have  a  great  many 
words  with  her,"  thought  Underhill ;  but  he  did  not  say 
it  aloud,  and  had  the  air  of  being  tranquilly  acquiescent. 

"Harry,  I'm  obliged  to  you  for  your  good-will  in 
this  matter,"  resumed  Mather.  "  I  can  understand  that 
to  you  my  proposition  must  seem  strange  and  savoring 
of  family  tyranny.  Let  me  explain  that  I  am  not  order- 
ing this  marriage.  No,  no  !  I  simply  desire  that  it  may 
take  place,  and  that  you  will  favor  it.  Do  what  you 
can  for  it.  Oblige  me  !  If  it  fails  through  Miss  Beau- 
fort's fault,  I  shall  not  hold  you  responsible — I  shall  not 
seek  to  punish  you.  I  want  to  bring  this  union  about ; 
but  I  will  be  rational  in  the  business — I  am  not  a  mad- 
man." 

Underhill  looked  as  if  he  doubted  this  final  state- 
ment ;  but  he  preserved  the  courtesy  which  even  the 
sauciest  of  us  usually  extend  to  wealthy  relatives  ;  he 
simply  asked  when  he  was  likely  to  meet  the  young 
lady. 

"  I  ought  to  have  heard  from  her  before  this,"  grum- 
bled the  old  gentleman.  "  She  might  have  tried  to  see 
me,  I  think." 


60  TEE  BLOODY  CEASJI. 

"  Perhaps  she  couldn't  borrow  a  revolver,"  ventured 
Harry. 

"  She  may  have  expected  another  call  from  me," 
Mather  continued.  "  Well,  we  will  go  there,  you  and 
I,  to-morrow." 

"  Hadn't  we  better  wear  some  kind  of  helmets,  to 
keep  off  scalding  water  ?  " 

The  uncle  smiled,  half  fretfully,  half  sadly.  "  You 
forget  who  she  is  and  what  she  has  suffered,"  he  said. 
"  When  you  have  seen  her  you  will  stop  these  jokes. 
It  is  a  most  pitiable  case.  I  was  very  sorry  for  her, — 
as  well  as  very  angry  with  her." 

Underbill  apologized.  Then  he  suggested  that  it 
would  be  well  to  use  some  art  in  making  the  call,  if  only 
to  gain  admittance.  Why  not  send  a  friendly  native 
ahead  to  ask  for  a  parley  ?  There  was  General  Hilton, 
for  instance,  a  pleasant-mannered,  genial-hearted  sort 
of  a  man — tolerably  reconstructed  in  politics,  and  friend- 
ly in  disposition  also — the  legal  adviser  of  the  Beaufort 
family  in  its  days  of  prosperity.  Why  not  engage  him 
to  bear  a  message  and  ask  an  audience  ? 

"  An  ex-rebel  General !  "  growled  Mather.  "  It's 
hard  for  a  Boston  man  to  trust  those  fellows,  or  get  on 
with  them." 

"  The  question  is  here  what  sort  of  a  fellow  a  Charles- 
ton lady  can  get  on  with,"  urged  Underbill.  "I  feel 
certain  that  Hilton  can  start  my  suit  better  than  I  can 
start  it  myself." 

Then  it  was  agreed  that  the  whole  story  should  be 
told  to  the  General  in  confidence,  and  that  he  should  be 
induced,  if  possible,  to  befriend  and  forward  the  pro- 
posed courtship. 

"  An  excellent  idea  !  "  said  Mather,  who  considered 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  61 

it  his  own  invention  as  soon  as  he  had  assented  to  it. 
"Hilton  and  I  will  call  first.  Then  you  will  call. 
You'll  take  a  bouquet,  or  something  of  that  sort,  you 
know.     You  know  best  what  to  take." 

He  looked  quite  satisfied  with  himself,  like  a  man 
who  has  given  full  and  sound  counsel,  and  is  aware  of 
it.  Next  he  put  his  hand  caressingly  on  his  nephew's 
shoulder,  and  they  went  amicably  down  to  tea  together. 

That  evening — writing  to  a  friend  in  Boston — the 
Colonel  expressed  an  opinion  that  his  uncle's  mind  was 
failing — undermined  by  invalidism,  grief,  and  the  long 
excitement  of  the  war. 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

As  early  as  possible  on  Monday  Mr.  Mather  looked 
up  General  Hilton  and  communicated  to  him  his  ex- 
traordinary project  of  marriage. 

The  urbane  and  warm-hearted  South  Carolinian  re- 
ceived the  announcement  with  unconcealable  astonish- 
ment, indeed,  but  also  with  expressions  of  rejoicing  and 
promises  of  earnest  furtherance.  "  I  will  go  with  you 
to  call  on  Miss  Beaufort,"  he  volunteered.  "  I  scarcely 
think  that  she  will  decline  to  receive  any  one  who  is  in 
my  company.  Allow  me  to  suggest,  by-the-way,  that 
nothing  more  should  be  said,  for  the  present,  of  this 
matrimonial  overture.  That  will  come  up  in  time  be- 
tween the  young  people,  I  trust.  The  utmost  that  you 
and  I  can  hope  to  effect  is  a  reconciliation  between  the 
families,  and  a  resumption  of  intercourse." 

Mr.  Mather,  having   first   remarked  fretfully   that 


62  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

there  never  had  been  any  intercourse,  went  on  to  state 
that  he  agreed  with  the  General's  plan  of  ojjerations. 
The  young  lady  should  not  be  pestered  just  now  about 
the  marriage,  and  should  simply  be  urged  to  receive 
her  Northern  connections  as  friends,  or  at  least  as  ac- 
quaintance. "  Suppose  we  call  on  her  this  afternoon  at 
four,"  he  said  in  his  positive,  business-like  way.  "  Is 
the  hour  convenient  to  you  ?    Will  you  meet  me  there  ?  " 

"  Quite  convenient,"  bowed  the  General.  "  But,  if 
you  will  permit  me  to  say  so,  I  think  we  had  better  go 
to  Miss  Beaufort's  residence  together,"  he  added,  giving 
such  respectful  mention  to  Virginia's  shanty  that  it 
almost  sounded  like  a  joke.  *'  Your  appearance  there 
alone — excuse  me  for  mentioning  it — might  renew  her 
excitement.  With  your  permission,  I  will  call  for  you 
at  the  hotel." 

"  Very  good — thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Mather,  briefly, 
but  perhaps  none  the  less  gratefully.  Then  he  went 
home  to  look  up  his  nephew  and  inform  him  of  the 
plan  of  operations.  "  In  six  hours  from  now,"  he  said, 
looking  at  his  watch,  "  I  hope  to  know  what  we  are  to 
expect." 

*'  Make  it  six  hours  and  twenty  minutes,"  replied 
the  young  man,  with  rather  a  grim  smile.  "  I  can  wait 
that  long." 

But,  although  Underhill  could  joke,  he  was  not 
meny  nor  tranquil.  By  the  time  it  got  to  be  a  quarter 
of  four  in  the  afternoon  he  felt  as  if  preparations  were 
being  made  for  his  hanging.  He  was  too  uneasy  to 
remain  in  the  hotel,  and  wandered  forth  to  divert  his 
mind.  After  strolling  a  few  minutes  without  any  defi- 
nite goal  in  view,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might 
properly  look  up  his  proposed  bride's  place  of  abode. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  63 

and  lie  in  ambush  for  a  chance  sight  of  her.  Accord- 
ingly, he  set  off  in  the  direction  of  the  shanty,  walking 
swiftly  in  order  to  reach  it  before  the  arrival  of  the 
seniors.  His  air  meanwhile  was  that  of  a  man  whose 
soul  is  perplexed  and  whose  intentions  are  various.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  he  had  Norah  Macmorran  to 
think  of,  as  well  as  Virginia  Beaufort.  Chance  ordained 
that  he  should  stumble  upon  the  pretty  Irish  songster  as 
he  turned  a  street  corner. 

"  I  am  delighted  !  "  he  exclaimed,  stopping  her  at 
once.  "  I  am  very,  very  glad  to  meet  you,"  he  added, 
with  perilous  interest. 

Norah  received  him  in  a  manner  quite  characteristic 
of  herself.  She  recoiled  slightly,  colored  deeply,  glanced 
at  him  in  her  shy  way,  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  pave- 
ment, and  said  nothing. 

"  I  should  like  to  tell  you  something,"  he  went  on 
eagerly.     "  But  I  mustn't." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  ought  not  to  know  it," 
she  answered,  gravely.     "  Of  course,  I  mustn't  wish  to 

know  it." 

"  Oh,  you  lovely  little  prude  !  "  he  murmured,  gaz- 
ing at  her  with  frank  admiration  and  liking.  "  You  are 
perfectly  fascinating." 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  troubled  look,  and  then 
dropped  her  long  lashes  again.  "  I  wish  you  wouldn't 
say  such  things,  sir,"  she  begged,  in  a  very  low  tone, 
almost  a  whisper. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  complained  Harry.  "  I  wish  you  would 
hear  them  with  the  good-will  that  I  have  in  saying 
them." 

"  I  must  bid  you  good-afternoon,  sir,"  she  responded 
without  lifting  her  eyes.     Her  expression  was  really 


64  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

troubled,  and  her  voice  constrained  and  serious.  She 
had  the  air  of  a  person  who,  under  pressure  of  con- 
science, performs  a  painful  duty.  As  she  spoke  she 
drew  gently  to  one  side  and  sought  to  pass  the  young 
man. 

"  Wait,  Miss  Macmorran  ! — listen  to  me  one  mo- 
ment !  "  he  begged.  Then,  as  she  persisted  in  gliding 
by,  he  added,  breathlessly  :  "  When  can  I  see  you  again  ? 
Where  can  I  see  you  ?  " 

**  I  don't  know,  sir,"  returned  Norah,  in  an  utterance 
which  was  so  near  to  a  gasp  that  it  betrayed  a  violently 
beating  heart.  "  Please  excuse  me  now,"  she  added, 
with  a  piteous  smile  which  besought  him  not  to  be  an- 
gry.    "  Good-by,  sir." 

There  was  no  possibility  of  detaining  her  ;  there 
was  no  chance  of  doing  any  further  folly.  He  said 
"Good-by,"  and  let  her  depart,  lifting  his  hat  respect- 
fully. Then  he  walked  onward  with  a  perturbed  coun- 
tenance, muttering  irrational  and  contradictory  things. 
"  Little  goose  !  "  he  fretted.  "  What  does  she  treat  me 
in  that  style  for  ?  Probably  she  has  had  a  lot  of  advice 
from  some  Sister  of  Charity.  Girls  always  tell.  But 
what  a  pretty  expression  !  Oh,  that  shy  little  dropping 
of  the  eyes  !  I  shall  fall  in  love  with  her  yet.  Non- 
sense !     I  can't  afford  it.     What  would  Boston  say  ?  " 

In  his  meditations  concerning  Miss  Macmorran  he 
forgot  that  he  wanted  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Beau- 
fort, passed  the  street  which  led  toward  her  shanty,  and 
took  one  far  below  it.  After  a  time  he  discovered  his 
mistake,  and  meandered  back  in  a  blundering  hurry, 
only  to  come  upon  his  uncle  and  General  Hilton.  They 
had  halted  at  the  corner  nearest  Virginia's  humble  resi- 
dence, and  the  Carolinian  was  discoursing  with  an  air 


TEE  BLOODY    CHASM.  65 

of  oratory,  while  the  Bostonian  listened  in  silence.  Un- 
derhill  could  discern  that  the  old  Puritan  seemed  wor- 
ried, and  was  studying  his  fluent  companion  with  an  air 
of  suspicion. 

"  Is  that  you,  Harry  ?  "  said  Mr.  Mather.  "  I  under- 
stood that  you  were  not  to  be  with  us." 

"  Couldn't  keep  away  from  this  part  of  the  town," 
explained  the  young  man.  "  I  want  to  steal  a  peep,  if 
possible,  at  Miss  Beaufort." 

"  Reconnoitring  !  "  laughed  the  General.  "  That's  a 
good  soldier.     All's  fair  in  love  and  in  war." 

There  was  something  in  Hilton's  face  and  tone  of 
voice  which  indicated  that  he  had  followed  the  too  com- 
mon Southern  custom  of  preparing  for  an  unusual  scene 
or  effort  by  a  liberal  refreshment  of  strong  liquors.  He 
grasped  Underhill's  hand  and  shook  it  with  embarrass- 
ing fervor. 

"Colonel,"  he  said,  dwelling  upon  and  repeating  the 
title — "  Colonel,  I  never  meet  one  of  you  gentlemen  who 
fought  against  us  but  what  my  heart  warms  to  him. 
By  Jove,  sir,  you  are  more  of  a  comrade  of  mine  than 
any  scallawag  of  a  Southron  who  staid  behind  in  the 
bomb-proofs  and  bake-shops." 

"  Thank  you,  General,"  smiled  Harry,  quite  conscious 
the  while  that  he  owed  at  least  a  part  of  this  fraterniza- 
tion to  the  bottle.  "  Comrade  as  much  as  you  will,  and 
comrade  to  every  good  soldier.  Southern  or  Northern." 

"  That  is  the  spirit  of  a  gentleman  and  a  Christian," 
declared  Hilton,  wheeling  upon  the  bothered  Mather. 
"  The  men  in  blue  were  the  noblest  and  highest-souled 
part  of  your  population.  If  you  had  been  twenty  years 
younger,  sir,  you  would  have  had  on  the  uniform  your- 
self." 


m  TEE  BLOODY  CEA8M. 

"  I  trust  so,"  fretted  the  old  Puritan.  "  I  thank 
Heaven  that  I  had  a  nephew  who  could  wear  it  for  me." 

He  looked  nothing  less  than  disgusted.  He  had  an 
air  of  sniffing  the  atmosphere  with  his  thin  white  nose 
for  the  hated  odor  of  whisky.  He  suspected  the  Gen- 
eral's mellowness  with  the  uncharitable  suspicion  of  a 
teetotaler. 

*'  Gentlemen,  this  is  a  love-feast,"  continued  Hilton, 
not  in  the  least  guessing  Mather's  horror  of  him.  "  I 
enjoy  it  beyond  expression.  But  we  have  something  to 
do.  We  must  lay  out  our  plan  of  battle.  Colonel — my 
very  dear  Colonel — I  am  with  you  in  this  warfare — God 
bless  you,  sir  !  " 

By  this  time  the  prim  Bostonian  had  quite  lost  pa- 
tience ;  he  interrupted  the  voluble  and  fervent  South 
Carolinian.  "  Sir,  I  think  it  would  be  best  to  give  up 
this  call,"  he  said.  "  I  have  a  feeling  that  it  will  end  in 
no  good.  My  opinion  is,  that  my  nephew  had  better 
send  in  his  card  and  try  his  chance  alone." 

The  General  shook  his  head  with  energy,  and  con- 
tinued to  address  Underhill.  "  Your  uncle,  sir — with 
that  business-like  faculty  which  characterizes  him  and 
you  IsTortherners  generally — has  lucidly  and  vividly  ex- 
plained to  me  the  object  of  our  conjoint  operation.  I 
can't  express  to  you  my  sympathy  with  your  purpose, 
and  my  longings  for  your  success.  She  is  a  most  lovely 
and  noble  young  lady,  sir.  You  couldn't  have  chosen 
better,  nor  she  either." 

"Remember,  General,  that  she  hasn't  chosen  yet," 
suggested  Harry,  gently.  "  We  are  a  long  way  from 
that." 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  bowed  Hilton.  "  Suffer- 
ings must  be  forgotten.     Aversions  are  to  be  overcome. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  67 

Suasion  is  needed.  Time  must  do  its  work.  My  opin- 
ion is,  Colonel,  that  you  had  better  keep  out  of  sight — 
in  ambush.  Your  place,  for  the  present,  is  in  the  tim- 
ber." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  grumbled  Mather,  still  full  of 
doubt  and  disgust,  though  there  was  evidently  sense  in 
the  General's  talk.  "  I  had  hoped  that  the  presence  of 
a  young  man  might  have  some  influence." 

"  Her  brothers  were  young  men,"  responded  Hilton, 
turning  upon  him  with  solemnity.  He  paused,  lifted 
his  mangled  hand  and  passed  it  across  his  eyes,  as  if  to 
brush  away  the  mists  of  strong  drink.  There  was  a 
tremulous  expression  of  sorrowful  reminiscence  and  of 
tender  sympathy  in  his  masculine  and  naturally  noble 
countenance.  He  seemed  to  become  sober  at  once. 
*'  It  would  not  be  well  to  remind  her  of  her  broth- 
ers," he  resumed,  shaking  his  head  compassionately. 
"  I  wonder  that  the  poor  child  keeps  her  reason." 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Underbill,  touched  with  awe  and 
pity.  "  It  is  a  good  deal  like  a  funeral,"  he  muttered, 
as  he  turned  away. 

Hilton  now  took  Mather's  arm  into  his  own  and  led 
him  slowly  toward  the  shanty.  "  We  are  going  to  the 
house  of  mourning,"  he  murmured,  in  his  deep,  mellow 
bass — a  voice  something  like  the  low  bellow  of  a  bull  in 
pacific  mood.  "  I  have  had  a  good  deal  of  whisky  to- 
day— it  is  one  of  our  unfortunate  Southern  habits — be- 
sides, I  am  a  weak,  sad  old  fellow.  But  I  am  perfectly 
myself  at  this  moment.  There  are  some  bereaved  per- 
sons who  are  more  solemnizing  than  the  dead  them- 
selves. I  never  see  this  girl  without  seeing  her  attended 
by  the  ghosts  of  all  she  loved." 

"  Heaven  be  merciful  to  her,  and  restore  her  reason  !  " 


68  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

sighed  Mather.     "  I  shall  leave  the  whole  interview  to 
vou." 

They  approached  the  cabin,  and  were  crossing  the 
little  unfenced  yard  which  separated  it  from  the  street, 
when  Aunt  Chloe  came  solemnly  forth  and  handed 
Mather  a  package. 

"  I'se  so  sorry,  Masr  !  "  she  whispered,  beginning  to 
cry.  "  It's  de  money  you  gin  us.  She  won't  let  us 
keep  it." 

The  Bostonian  turned  excitedly  upon  the  Carolinian, 
as  if  he  would  hold  him  responsible  for  this  act  of  hos- 
tility. 

"  Very  well,  aunty,"  said  Hilton,  urbanely.  "  The 
gentleman  will  take  his  money.  Miss  Beaufort's  wishes 
must  be  respected." 

Mr.  Mather  silently  pocketed  his  plethoric  wallet 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  pockets  a  very  big  insult. 

"Gin'ral,    she's    a    mighty    triflin',    spiled    baby,' 
whimpered  Aunt  Chloe.     "  Never  see  no  sech  behavin' 
sence  I  was  bawn.      Mule's   hind-leg    longer   dan   his 
ears." 

"  Hush  ! "  murmured  Hilton,  patting  the  old  creat- 
ure's shoulder.  "  Give  my  compliments  to  your  young 
missis,  and  ask  her  to  grant  us  the  favor  of  an  inter- 
view." 

*'  She — she  wants  ter  be  sensed,  Masr,"  stammered 
Chloe.  "  She's  powerful  sorry — oughter  be,  anyway — 
but  she  wants  ter  be  sensed." 

"Tell  her,"  broke  in  Mather,  excitedly— " tell  her  I 
shall  soon  leave  Charleston,  and  this  may  be  my  last 
opportunity  to  meet  her  in  this  world  !  " 

Mauma  Chloe  hesitated,  and  glanced  timidly  at  the 
General. 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  69 

"  Yes,  my  good  aunty,"  he  said,  "  step  in  and  tell 
her  that." 

The  old  woman  limped  eagerly  into  the  cabin,  softly 
closing  the  door  after  her.  Mather  looked  angrily  at 
Hilton,  and  muttered,  "  The  girl  is  stark-mad  ! " 

"  We  Southerners  have  all  been  mad,  sir,"  was  the 
grave  response.     "  Some  of  us  haven't  yet  got  over  it." 

"  How  long  shall  you  need  to  come  to  your  senses  ?  " 
grumbled  the  stalwart  Unionist. 

"  It  takes  six  feet  of  gravel  to  cure  some  frenzies. 
I  sincerely  hope  that  this  isn't  one  of  those  cases." 

At  this  moment  Aunt  Chloe  reappeared,  slammed 
the  door  violently  behind  her,  and  sobbed  out :  "  She's 
jess  's  stubborn  ! — jess  's  stubborn  ! — oh,  ain't  dat  chile 
stubborn  !  Don  wanter  do  nothin' ;  don  wanter  see  no- 
body." 

"  I  must  say  that  I  am  a  little  tired  of  being  treated 
in  this  fashion,"  declared  Mr.  Mather,  trembling  with 
indignation.  "  One  would  think  that  I  was  an  enemy 
and  an  infamous  scoundrel  !  " 

"  I  wish  that  my  apologies  could  suffice  for  you,"  in- 
terposed Hilton,  with  melancholy  urbanity.  "  Can  you 
accept  them  on  her  behalf — my  sincere  and  heart-felt 
apologies?" 

"  Please,  Masr,  don  git  outright  mad  at  her,"  begged 
Mauma  Chloe.  "  Ain't  so  bad  's  this  every  day.  She'll 
come  round  yit." 

"  Aunty,"  said  the  General,  "  step  in  once  more,  and 
ask  Miss  Beaufort  if  she  will  see  her  father's  old  friend 
Marion  Hilton." 


70  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Aunt  Chloe  limped  into  the  cabin  with  the  mes- 
sage, and  another  brief  dialogue  took  place  between  the 
General  and  Mather. 

"  This  is  the  kind  of  spirit  that  you  raise,"  charged 
the  petulant  Unionist.  "  The  girl  is  behaving  just  as 
the  whole  South  behaved." 

"And  suffering  as  the  whole  South  suffers,"  sighed 
Hilton.  "  My  dear  and  good  sir,  isn't  it  just  possible, 
in  view  of  oui*  anguish,  to  have  patience  with  our  writh- 
ing ?  " 

"  Oh,  well — when  you  put  it  that  way — of  course 
one  must  try,"  grumbled  the  old  gentleman. 

Then  Aunt  Chloe  reappeared,  her  face  beaming  with 
hope,  and  said  in  a  loud,  eager  whisper  :  "  She's  willin'. 
Jess  you  go  right  in,  Gin'ral,  an'  see  ef  you  kin  coax 
her." 

Hilton  entered  the  cabin,  and  Mather  drew  Aunt 
Chloe  aside.  "  See  here,  my  good  woman,"  he  muttered, 
"  I  want  you  to  take  back  this  pocket-book.  I  didn't 
give  it  to  Miss  Beaufort  ;  I  gave  it  to  you  and  your 
brother.     You  are  free  people,  and  you  can  keep  it." 

Aunt  Chloe  hesitated  for  a  moment.  The  pocket- 
book  was  less  of  a  temptation  than  we  might  suppose, 
for  the  reason  that  all  through  her  slave-life  she  had  got 
on  with  very  little  money,  and  her  freedom  had  not 
lasted  long  enough  to  impress  her  deeply  with  the  value 
of  it.  Nevertheless,  in  the  present  bare  state  of  her 
cupboard,  and  in  her  vague  consciousness  of  the  many 
needs  of  her  delicately  nurtured  young  missis,  the 
pocket-book  did  seem  very  desirable.  She  had  to  pon- 
der a  little,  therefore,  and  to  set  duty  against  desire, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  71 

before  she  could  resist  temptation  and  make  this  high- 
minded  reply  : 

"  I  knows  we's  free,  Masr.  But  we  can't  abear  fur 
to  plague  Miss  Ginny.  Ef  you'd  a  seen  how  she  cried 
an'  took  on,  you  wouldn'  blame  us,  Masr." 

"What's  her  objection  to  your  having  something 
to  buy  necessaries  with?"  demanded  Mather.  "What 
right  has  she  to  object  ?     It's  inhuman." 

"  What  we  has  is  hern  too,"  explained  Aunt  Chloe. 
"  She  knows  dat  ar  puffeckly.  Ef  we  has  your  money, 
it'll  go  to  buy  her  vittle,  an'  den  she'd  be  feedin'  off  de 
Yankees,  she  said." 

"  But  feed  off  it  yourselves,  can't  you  ?  You  are 
both  old,  and  need  good  food.  Buy  little  bits  for  your- 
selves." 

"  How  could  we  eat  when  she  wasn'  eatin'  ?  "  queried 
the  astonished  Mauma.  "  How  could  we  squat  down  to 
chickin'  an'  rice  when  she  only  had  hoe-cake  ?  O  Masr, 
me  an'  Phil  couldn'  do  dat  ar  noways." 

"I  believe  you  are  all  mad  together,  black  and 
white,"  snapped  the  veteran  abolitionist. 

^^Mebbe  so,"  conceded  Aunt  Chloe,  meekly.  "Of 
cose,  dey's  excepshums.  Dar  is  niggers  as  don  mind 
'bout  de  folks  what  raised  'em.  But  dey  is  gin'rally  nig- 
gers of  no  'count  fam'lies  ;  or  dey  is  niggers  what  was 
bawn  low  an'  mean  ;  dar's  a  mighty  diff'rence  in  niggers. 
But,  ye  see,  de  Beauforts  was  gret  folks  from  all  time  ; 
an'  so  de  people  what  b'longed  to  'em  takes  a  pride  in 
stannin'  by  'em  ;  for  we  gits  a  heap  o'  things,  Masr,  from 
some  of  d'  ole  ban's — gets  taters  an'  meal  an'  poke — an' 
it  helps  powerfully.  Besides,  as  fur  Miss  Ginny  an'  me, 
she  was  my  own  pertickler  chile — jess  my  own  own,  to 
nuss  an'  fotch  up." 


72  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  And  a  pretty  bringing  up  you  made  of  it !  "  sighed 
Mather. 

"  O  Masr  !  you  hain't  seen  the  las'  o'  her  ;  you'll 
see  mo'  an'  better  some  day  ;  you'll  be  mighty  glad  an' 
proud  of  her  yit." 

Then  there  was  a  silence  for  some  minutes,  the  old 
gentleman  walking  impatiently  up  and  down  the  little 
yard,  and  the  old  negress  moving  her  lips  as  if  in  whis- 
pered prayer.  At  last  Mather  halted  by  the  side  of 
Aunt  Chloe,  and  murmured  :  "  The  General  stays  a  long 
time.     I  can't  but  hope  that  he  is  succeeding." 

"  Dat's  jess  d'  way  I  was  feelin'  myself,"  responded 
the  Mauma.  "I'se  been  a-layin'  it  befo'  the  Lawd.  I 
has  a  hope." 

Presently  the  General  appeared,  closed  the  door  soft- 
ly behind  him,  and  joined  the  pair.  They  gazed  at  him 
for  a  moment  in  speechless  suspense  and  anxiety. 

"  I  am  sincerely  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Mather,  for  your 
patience,"  he  said,  with  grave  urbanity. 

"  What  news  ?  "  demanded  the  old  man,  who  had  no 
patience  at  all.     "  Will  Miss  Beaufort  see  me  ?  " 

"I  am  extremely  sorry  to  say,  and  I  apologize  to 
you  most  heartily  for  it,  that  she  still  desires  to  be  ex- 
cused from  an  interview." 

Mather  stared  in  angry  astonishment,  and  Aunt 
Chloe  fell  to  sobbing  and  moaning. 

"  Run  in  and  talk  to  your  baby,  aunty,"  whispered 
the  General,  wiping  his  eyes  with  his  hand.  "  She  is 
crying — terribly  !  " 

"  O  Mas'r  !  don'  go  yit  ! "  begged  the  old  woman, 
as  she  moved  toward  the  cabin.  "  Wait  till  I  kin  say 
one  las'  word  to  her." 

"  Am  I  to  stay  here  all  night  ?  "  exclaimed  the  of- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  Y3 

fended  capitalist,  speaking  to  himself  rather  than 
%o  Hilton.  "I  don't  care  to  be  trifled  with  any- 
longer."  Then,  recollecting  his  courtesy,  he  glanced 
at  the  General  and  added  :  "  I  was  not  alluding  to 
you,  sir.  You  have  done  your  best  to  favor  me,  and 
I  am  sincerely  obliged  to  you.  Let  me  ask  plainly 
what  is  your  opinion  as  to  this  young  person's  inten- 
tions ?  " 

"  She  means  non-intercourse,"  sighed  Hilton.  "  There 
is,  I  am  grieved  to  say,  no  doubt  as  to  that." 

"  Did  she  refuse  my  offer — the  whole  of  it — every 
part  of  it  ?  " 

"  She  declined  all  assistance." 

"  *  Not  a  Yankee  dollar ' — did  she  use  those  words  ?  " 

The  General  gazed  at  him  gravely,  reflected  a  mo- 
ment, and  bowed  in  silence. 

"  Very  well !  "—Mr.  Mather  feebly  stamped  his  foot 
here — "  then  I  will  go." 

"  Could  you  wait  one  moment  for  Aunt  Chloe's  re- 
turn ?  "  pleaded  Hilton. 

Mather,  who  had  already  turned  toward  the  street, 
paused  irresolutely,  and  slowly  faced  about.  "Oh,  I 
will  wait — it's  of  no  use,"  he  mumbled.  "What  did 
Miss  Beaufort  say  ?  What  was  the  tenor  of  her  con- 
versation ?  " 

The  General  shook  his  head  repeatedly,  like  one  who 
recalls  a  very  painful  scene.  "It  was  dolorous,"  he 
said,  in  a  low,  compassionate  tone.  "  I  had  no  full  idea 
before  of  the  soreness  of  her  heart.  Please  excuse  me 
from  rehearsing  the  interview.  It  can  do  no  good. 
Moreover,  such  grief  is  a  confidence — a  sacred  trust. 
Here  comes  Aunt  Chloe." 

The  old  negress  had  no  amicable  message  to  deliver. 
4 


74  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

She  looked  out,  shook  her  head  sorrowfully,  and  closed 
the  door  again. 

Mather's  milky  face  flushed  to  a  deep  carnation,  and 
he  said,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  renewed  wrath,  "I 
have  waited,  you  see." 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  patiently  and  mercifully  look 
upon  this  as  a  temporary  insanity  of  grief,"  was  the 
meek  response. 

"  General,  I  thank  you  for  your  patience,"  said 
Mather,  suddenly  reverting  to  courtesy.  "  You  have  had 
need  to  be  patient  with  me,  as  well  as  with  her.  Ah, 
dear !  I  am  sadly  disappointed.  This  shakes  me.  I 
don't  know  that  I  can  get  home  alone.  Will  you  kindly 
go  to  the  hotel  with  me  ?  " 

Hilton  took  his  arm,  and  the  two  walked  slowly 
away  in  silence,  the  wooden-legged  veteran  supporting 
the  invalid  sexagenarian.  They  had  barely  reached 
Meeting  Street  when  they  were  encountered  by  iJnder- 
hill,  advancing  with  the  swift,  strong  step  of  youth,  and 
the  smile  of  health  and  gayety.  He  presented  an  al- 
most painful  contrast  to  the  two  more  or  less  crippled 
and  entirely  disheartened  men  with  whom  he  joined 
himself. 

"I  couldn't  go  far  away,  you  see,"  he  laughed. 
"  What  was  the  result  ?  " 

"  We  return  to  Boston,"  said  Mather,  grimly. 

Underhill  glanced  at  his  uncle,  as  if  to  see  whether 
he  could  bear  further  questioning,  and  then  dropped 
into  silence.  But  Hilton,  who  knew  less  of  the  old 
man's  feebleness  and  nervous  irritability,  ventured  to 
protest,  "  I  sincerely  hope  not  at  once." 

"  It  was  dreadful  !  "  insisted  Mather.    "  Shocking  ! " 

"It  was    very   sad,   Colonel,"    murmured    Hilton. 


THE  BLOODY  OR  ASM.  75 

"The  house   of   mourning   doesn't  always   welcome  a 

guest." 

"  Kot  a  Yankee  dollar  !  "  broke  out  the  old  banker, 
savagely  repeating  the  phrase  which  at  once  rejected 
his  good-will  and  threw  scorn  upon  the  intrinsic  result 
of  his  life's  labor.  "  She  wouldn't  even  suffer  those 
faithful  old  negroes  to  accept  bread  from  a  Yankee." 

He  drew  out  his  pocket-book,  flourished  it  as  if  it 
were  a  weapon,  and  then  of  a  sudden  handed  it  to  Hil- 
ton. "General,  will  you  favor  me  by  devoting  this 
money  to  the  comfort  of  such  needy  Charlestonians  as 
will  deign  to  make  use  of  it  ?  " 

"  Take  it,  General— you  will  oblige  him,"  said  Un- 
derhill,  seeing  that  Hilton  hesitated. 

"  Thank  you  for  your  noble  gift  to  our  poor,"  bowed 
the  urbane  veteran.  "  But,  Mr.  Mather,  let  me  also  beg 
for  a  little  compassion  of  spirit  toward  this   unhappy 

young  lady." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  give  her  up,  sir,"  added  Harry. 
"Time  will  probably  change  her  opinions  and  feelings." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  angrily  and  walked  on 
without  speaking.  But  a  minute  or  so  later  he  looked 
up  at  his  nephew  and  said  :  "I'll  grant  her  a  year— per- 
haps two  years.  I'll  make  my  will  as  I  told  you,  and 
give  her  a  year  for  reflection.  But  meanwhile  let  her 
take  care  of  herself." 

When  they  reached  the  hotel  Mather  retired  to  his 
room  and  sofa,  broken  down  physically  by  the  struggle 
and  defeat  of  the  day.  Underhill  drew  the  General  to 
his  own  room,  supplied  him  abundantly  with  his  favor- 
ite refreshment,  and  catechised  him  about  the  Beau- 
forts.  It  was  a  subject  which  Hilton  loved  ;  he  had 
many  stories  to  tell  concerning  it.    At  first  he  was  stern 


Y6  THE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

and  sad,  like  a  stoic  of  the  Roman  Empire  talking  of  the 
greatness  of  the  republic,  or  a  prophet  of  the  captivity- 
recalling  the  glories  of  Zion.  But,  when  the  whisky  had 
a  little  mellowed  his  sorrow,  a  tint  of  humor  and  even 
of  compassionate  satire  stole  over  his  reminiscences,  and 
made  him  amusing. 

"  The  Colonel,  Virginia's  father,  was  not  the  great 
man  of  his  race,"  he  said.  "  There  was  a  declension  in 
the  vitality  and  force  of  the  breed  during  his  incarna- 
tion of  it.  His  grandfather,  the  old  General  of  the  Rev- 
olution, made  the  Beauforts.  I  don't  know  but  that  he 
unmade  them  also.  Every  Beaufort  since  his  time  has 
tried  to  live  in  his  lordly  style.  That  venerable  ghost, 
sir,  has  been  a  sort  of  vampire,  sucking  the  blood  of 
prosperity  out  of  the  family.  His  example  and  his  sup- 
posed demands  have  done  much  to  ruin  it.  Colonel 
Beaufort,  for  instance,  when  he  came  to  the  estate, 
found  himself  with  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  in 
property  and  two  hundred  thousand  in  debts.  He 
seemed  to  think,  sir,  that  that  made  five  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars,  and  he  proceeded  to  live  accordingly.  He 
kept  up  his  city  house  and  two  country  houses  ;  he  held 
on  to  both  his  plantations — some  six  thousand  badly- 
worked  acres  ;  he  entertained  a  score  of  impoverished 
relatives,  and  at  least  another  score  of  their  attendants  ; 
he  wouldn't  sell  one  of  his  three  hundred  head  of  ne- 
groes. All  this  he  did  because  the  old  General  had 
done  it ;  but  to  do  it  he  had  to  pay  interest  on  enormous 
loans.  The  result  was  that  the  year  1860  found  him  in 
debt  to  nearly  the  whole  extent  of  his  property. 

"  Then  came  the  war,  with  its  wastage  of  substance, 
and  its  depreciation  of  what  remained.  The  Colonel's 
contributions  to  the  Confederacy  were  enormous.     He 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  77 

gave  liberally  at  first,  and  the  details  took  the  rest.  His 
horses  went  to  the  front ;  his  cows,  pigs,  and  poultry 
followed  them  ;  his  live-stock  was  reduced  to  an  old 
poll-parrot.  Even  his  sweet-potatoes  and  corn-nubbins 
took  up  their  line  of  march  for  Lee's  bivouacs.  His 
carpets  were  gradually  swept  off,  and  cut  up  into  blan- 
kets for  the  soldiers.  As  for  wool  blankets  such  as 
Beauforts  had  always  slept  under,  there  wasn't  so  much 
of  a  one  left  as  would  toss  a  small  abolitionist.  The 
damask  window-curtains  were  made  into  raiment,  and 
the  mulatto  house-maids  capered  about  in  figured  crim- 
son. I  remember  Uncle  Phil  looking  insolvently  sump- 
tuous in  a  suit  made  out  of  a  green-and-gold  piano- 
cover.  All  the  carriages  went  for  ambulances,  except 
one  venerable  coach,  the  last  relic  of  the  old  General's 
personal  pomp.  It  was  an  amazing  spectacle,  sir  ;  you 
couldn't  call  it  anything  but  a  spectacle — there  wasn't 
an  atom  of  use  or  service  in  it.  You  couldn't  have  vent- 
ured to  drive  it  out  of  the  grounds  without  taking  an 
axe  and  a  coil  of  rope  along  for  repairs.  Its  panels 
needed  a  barrel  or  so  of  paint  and  varnish,  and  its  top 
had  been  much  disfigured  by  the  roosting  of  poultry. 
However,  all  that  mattered  little,  for  there  were  no 
horses  to  draw  it.  There  were  not  even  any  poultry  to 
roost  on  it. 

"At  last,  sir,  just  before  he  died,  the  Colonel's  spirit 
broke  a  little.  He  was  driven  to  sell  one  of  his  planta- 
tions, which  was  painful,  and,  furthermore,  he  took  the 
pay  for  it,  which  was  ruinous.  When  the  war  ended, 
the  Beauforts  had  in  hand  a  vast  amount  of  Confederate 
bills,  worth  a  good  deal  less  than  so  much  brown  wrap- 
ping-paper. It  would  have  been  no  waste,  but  rather 
an  economy,  to  light  fires  with  them,  instead  of  with 


78  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

pine-knots.  Then  there  were  the  debts ;  the  estate  had 
fairly  wallowed  in  our  Southern  credit  system  ;  it  was 
bemired  in  it  and  incrusted  with  it.  The  liberation  of 
the  negroes,  the  only  unmortgaged  portion  of  it,  left  it 
absolutely  no  estate  at  all.  I  judge,  sir,  that  secession 
cost  the  Colonel  alone  more  than  he  supposed  it  would 
cost  the  entire  South. 

"Now,  you  smile  at  this  story,"  continued  Hilton, 
with  a  sigh.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  blame  you.  There 
is  something  ludicrous  in  building  such  immense  pur- 
poses and  expectations  upon  such  a  small  basis.  But  it 
made  a  tragedy.  The  Beaufort  history  during  the  last 
four  years  has  been  a  long  tragedy.  It  was  awful  to 
see  how  fast  destitution  and  degradation  and  battle 
swept  them  into  the  other  world.  The  poor  relations 
died  for  lack  of  sufficient  nourishing  food.  The  good 
old  Colonel — a  most  honorable  and  kind-hearted  man — 
died  of  a  broken  heart,  rather  than  of  fever.  His  boys 
fell,  you  know  how.  Of  all  the  breed  there  are  only 
two  lean  and  half-crazed  women  left.  You  can  pity 
them,  I  am  certain.  Can  you  do  anything  for  them  ? 
Can  you  bring  your  uncle  to  use  further  patience  ?  " 

Underbill  was  greatly  interested  and  touched.  "I 
will  try,"  he  promised.  After  a  little  reflection,  he 
added  :  "  It  isn't  easy  to  bend  him.  Mild  as  he  looks, 
he  is  amazingly  stubborn,  once  he  has  come  to  a  de- 
cision." 

At  this  moment  the  pale  and  haggard  face  of  Mather 
looked  into  the  room,  and  his  feeble,  monotonous  voice 
announced  :  "  We  shall  leave  to-morrow  morning,  Harry. 
Be  sure  that  everything  is  ready." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  79 


CHAPTER  X. 


Some  weeks  after  Mr.  Mather's  departure  for  the 
North,  Virginia  Beaufort's  only  aunt  and  surviving  rel- 
ative, a  widow  of  some  fifty  years  or  so,  named  Mrs. 
Dumont,  known  aforetime  as  Miss  Anna  Beaufort, 
gave  up  the  uninhabitable  shanty  which  she  had  occu- 
pied in  Columbia,  and  sought  shelter  in  the  scarcely 
inhabitable  shanty  in  Charleston. 

She  brought  not  a  dollar  with  her,  nor  any  raiment 
except  the  rather  shabby  clothing  on  her  back,  and,  in 
short,  no  possessions  beyond  her  highly-valued  birth- 
right in  the  Beaufort  blood  and  name.  It  was  another 
hungry  mouth  to  feed,  and  two  more  not  very  skillful 
hands  to  work.  Meantime  Southern  prosperity  had 
not  revived  ;  the  fallen  and  desolated  city  absolutely 
swarmed  with  poor  ;  there  was  little  labor  to  be  done, 
and  wages  were  meager.  Under  such  circumstances  it 
may  readily  be  supposed  that  the  two  Beaufort«  and 
their  two  faithful  adherents  were  often  in  straits.  Let 
us  glance  into  their  wretched  abode,  and  see  what  man- 
ner of  life  they  led. 

On  a  certain  day,  which  turned  out  to  be  eventful, 
Virginia  and  Aunt  Chloe  were  ironing.  The  young 
lady — who  had  that  morning  washed  her  calico  frock 
and  hung  it  out  to  dry — wore  a  dress  of  black  alpaca, 
which  had  seen  better  days,  and  which  was  her  Sunday 
garment.  The  sleeves  were  carefully  tucked  above  her 
elbows,  revealing  a  pair  of  large,  round,  firm  arms,  a 
little  reddened  by  exposure  and  toil.  Her  face,  though 
still  beautiful,  and  noticeably  high-bred  in  expression, 
was  thinner  and  paler  than  when  we  saw  it  last.  She 
had  the  air  of  being  physically  jaded,  and  also  of  being 


80  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

depressed  in  spirit.  A  shrewd  observer  would  have 
guessed  that  she  got  either  insuiRcient  food  or  food  of 
a  poor  quality. 

Behind  her,  seated  in  the  rush-bottomed  chair,  and 
dabbling  masculine  collars  in  a  bowl  of  starched  water, 
was  her  aunt.  A  tallish  and  angular  lady  was  Mrs. 
Dumont,  with  a  regularly  cut  but  haggard  countenance, 
carelessly  arranged  iron-gray  hair,  and  fierce,  unquiet, 
coal-black  eyes.  She  had  been  a  handsome  woman 
once,  and  reminiscences  of  beauty  still  lingered  about 
her,  though  sadly  eclipsed  by  suffering  and  bitterness 
of  spirit.  There  was  something  in  the  shape  of  her  fore- 
head and  in  her  expression  which  indicated  a  very  mod- 
erate intellectual  development.  A  frequent  gesture  with 
her  was  to  put  one  hand  to  her  breast,  draw  a  quick 
gasp,  and  roll  her  eyes  upward.  She  had  had  abundant 
cause  during  the  four  past  years  for  this  signal  of  dis- 
tress. 

"  Aunt  Dumont,  what  are  you  sighing  about  ?  "  de- 
manded Virginia,  turning  upon  her  relative  with  just  a 
little  impatience. 

"  It  does  woiTy  me  inexpressibly,  Virginia,  to  see 
you  going  barefoot,"  complained  ]\irs.  Dumont.  Her 
tone  was  dolorous,  and  her  enunciation  so  deliberate  as 
to  be  nearly  a  drawl  ;  but,  for  all  that,  the  voice  had  a 
cultivated  cadence,  and  was  full  and  mellow  ;  it  was 
the  pleasant  voice  of  the  South  and  of  Beauforts. 

"  You  must  get  used  to  it,"  said  the  girl.  "  I  don't 
want  to  wear  out  my  one  pair  of  shoes.  I  don't  see  the 
slightest  prospect  of  ever  getting  another." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (smiting  her  breast  and  rolling  her 
eyes  at  Providence).     "  Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear  !  " 

Aunt  Ghloe.  "  An'  she  might  roll  in  her  coach,  jess 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  81 

like  all  cle  Beauforts  befo'  her,  'stead  o'  trampin'  round 
like  poo'  white  folks." 

Virginia.  "  Aunt  Chloe,  you  wear  my  patience  hard- 
er than  I  wear  my  shoes.     It  will  give  out,  some  day." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Virginia  must  conduct  herself  as  a 
Beaufort,  Chloe.     She  must  never  forget  that  she  is  a 

Beaufort." 

Virginia.  "  I  am  not  likely  to  forget  it,  aunt.  I 
suppose  I  have  had  those  very  words  said  to  me  ten 
thousand  times.  My  belief  is,  that  I  began  to  hear  them 
before  I  could  talk." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  of  anything 
more  proper  to  say,  especially  in  our  present  humilia- 
tion, when  we  are  so  likely  to  lose  heart." 

Virginia.  "  Quite  proper,  my  dear  aunt.  I  didn't 
mean  to  be  satirical." 

Au7it  Chloe.  'Pears  to  me  dar's  things  might  be  said 
what  'd  f  otch  in  mo'  vittle.  What  we  wants  is  words 
what  has  got  some  nourishment  in  'em." 

Virginia  (with  a  weary  sigh).  "Oh,  yes,  Mauma 
Chloe,  if  a  Beaufort  could  say  them  ! " 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  Poo'  folks  ain't  reel  shu'  enough  Beau- 
forts.     We's  awful  poo',  Miss  Ginny.     De  times  hits 
hard.  Kwishins  on  mules'  foots  done  gone  out  o'  fashin." 
Mrs.  Dumont  (fretfully).  "  It  does  appear  to  me  that 
Uncle  Phil  might  earn  more.     If  I  were  a  man—" 

Virginia.  "  Don't  say  a  word  against  Phil.  Do  you 
know,  aunt,  why  he  wasn't  here  to  dinner  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  He  was  asked  out  ;  he  told  me  so. 
Stuffed  himself  somewhere  else." 

Virginia.  "  It  was  because  there  wasn't  enough  for 
us  and  him  too.  He  earned  our  pork  and  corn-bread, 
and  then  went  and  begged  for  himself." 


82  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

Mrs.  Dmno7it  (rolling  her  eyes  and  sighing).  "  Oh, 
dear,  dear,  dear  !     The  broken-down  creature  !  " 

Aimt  Chloe.  "  Don  you  go  mournin'  'bout  it.  Miss 
Anna.  Phil  got  his  belly  full,  I  reckon.  (Aside.)  Don 
know,  though.  Dar  ain't  so  very  many  bellyfuls  in 
dese  yere  parts  sence  de  wah." 

Mrs.  Dumont  shed  a  few  tears,  which  were  rather 
drops  of  wrath  than  of  pity.  She  positively  could  not 
help  being  angry  with  Uncle  Phil  for  having  come  short 
of  rations.  The  knowledge  of  the  touching  and  worry- 
ing fact  was  but  another  wound  to  her  already  sore 
spirit.  We  must  not  consider  her  with  condemnation, 
nor  even  with  wonder.  Among  the  miserable,  petulance 
is  far  more  common,  and,  for  physical  reasons,  necessa- 
rily more  common,  than  sympathy.  One  result  of  the 
poor  woman's  fretful  grief  was  an  access  of  unusual  hu- 
mility. "This  is  unendurable,  Virginia,"  she  sighed. 
"At  times  I  don't  know  but  that  you  ought  to  write  to 
that  Mather.     I  suppose  he  meant  well." 

"  Why  doesn't  he  write  ?  "  demanded  the  girl.  She 
spoke  with  a  very  moderate  degree  of  bitterness,  as  if 
her  constancy  had  been  a  little  sapped  by  poverty. 

*^  Bekase  you  treated  him  so  mean,"  broke  in  Aunt 
Chloe.  "  Wouldn'  speak  to  him  no  mo'  'n'  ef  he  was  a 
free  nigger.  Never  was  no  decent  man  so  treated  bef o', 
sence  de  good  ole  Dan'l." 

"  I  think  Virginia  behaved  very  properly,"  said  Mrs. 
Dumont,  struggling  back  to  dignity  of  manner  and 
greatness  of  mind.  "  I  think  she  behaved  like  a  Beau- 
fort." 

"  An'  here  she  is  bar'foot,  like  me  an'  Phil,"  grunted 
the  Mauma. 

"  It's  a  perfect  shame  to  Mather — my  own  sister's 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  83 

husband  !     He's  just  like  all  of  them.     Oh,  how  I  hate 
those  Vandals  !  " 

"  He  is  not  responsible  for  my  bare  feet,"  remarked 
Virginia.     "  I  refused  everything." 

"  I  hope  it  hurt  his  feelings,"  exclaimed  the  senior 
lady,  her  black  eyes  sparkling  almost  savagely.  "  *  Not 
a  Yankee  dollar  ! '  It  was  just  the  right  thing  to  say  to 
him." 

"  Mus'  hurt  him  powerful  to  keep  his  dollars,"  scoffed 
Aunt  Chloe.  "  Reckon  he  don  sleep  nights,  dey  wor- 
ries him  so." 

For  a  time  there  was  silence.  The  ironing  went  on 
wearisomely  and  drearily.  Mrs.  Dumont  soaked  and 
patted  her  collars,  or  sighed  and  rolled  her  eyes,  by 
turns.  After  some  minutes  she  resumed  the  subject  of 
the  Boston  Vandal  and  his  offer. 

"  Virginia,  I  don't  know — I  am  still  thinking  about 
it,  my  dear — I  don't  know  but  you  made  a  mistake." 

"  My  good  aunt,  I  can't  change  my  mind  half  a 
dozen  times  a  day,"  replied  the  young  lady,  with  a  mild 
sarcasm. 

"  An'  it's  an  awful  pity  fur  you.  Miss  Ginny,"  lect- 
ured Aunt  Chloe.  "  Women-folks  is  like  niggers — 
can't  have  deir  way  much  in  dis  yere  world  ;  gits  along 
easier  ef  dey  can  change  deir  minds." 

At  this  moment  Uncle  Phil,  a  very  meager  and  with- 
ered old  darky  m  these  days,  wandered  feebly  up  to 
the  cabin-door  and  sat  down  on  the  threshold  with  a 
weary  sigh.  Mrs.  Dumont  glanced  at  him  fretfully, 
thinking,  no  doubt,  that  he  ought  to  be  at  work.  Vir- 
ginia asked,  "  Did  you  get  a  good  dinner,  uncle  ?  " 

"  Specs  so,  Miss  Ginny,"  mumbled  Phil,  evasively. 
"  Would'n'   be   likely  to   find  a   dinnah   anyways  but 


84  THE  BLOODY  CRASJf. 

good.      Never  complained  of   no  dinnah  yit,  when  I 
got  one." 

The  girl  eyed  him  sharply,  and  was  evidently  about 
to  question  him  further,  when  he  suddenly  exclaimed  : 
"  Fo'  God  I  f  o'got.  I'se  gittin'  so  em'ty-headed  !  Yere's 
a  lettah  from  de  pose-office." 

He  put  his  shaky,  horny  hand  into  the  one  remain- 
ing pocket  of  his  wonderfully  shabby  cotton  jacket,  and 
produced  a  large  business  envelope.  Virginia  hurriedly 
tore  it  open  and  glanced  through  the  contents  of  the 
voluminous  inclosure,  while  the  others  watched  her 
with  the  anxious  eyes  of  wretches  who  dream  daily  of 
marvelous  interpositions  of  grace. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  she  presently  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  this  is 
very  sad  !  I  am  sorry.  I  wish  I  had  given  him  a  kind 
word." 

"  What  is  it  ?  Who  ?  "  screamed  Mrs.  Dumont,  in 
the  sharp  voice  of  one  tortured  by  suspense.  ' 

"  Mr.  Mather — he  is  dead  !  "  replied  Virginia,  look- 
ing at  her  with  a  momentary  solemnity,  and  then  eager- 
ly returning  to  her  reading. 

"  As — ton — ishing  !  "  exclaimed  the  elder  lady,  as  if 
Yankees  were  a  kind  of  monsters  who  lived  for  ever. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  I  wish  I  had  given  him  a  word  of  kind- 
ness," Virginia  repeated,  her  eyes  still  running  along 
the  lines. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Virginia  ?  "  begged  Mrs.  Du- 
mont. "  Has  it  ended  well  ?  Do,  for  mercy's  sake, 
speak  !  " 

"  It  is  amazing  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  her  face  sud- 
denly flushing  crimson.  "  He  has  not  changed  his  will. 
I  can  still  have  that  money — if  I  choose  it." 

There  was  a  brief  period  of  silence.     The  beating  of 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  85 

hearts  was  at  first  too  violent  to  admit  of  speech.  Next 
after  dumb  amazement  and  mere  pulsation  of  emotion 
came  the  reflection,  what  should  be  done  ?  Then  arose 
an  eager,  confused,  shrill  talk  of  three  excited  "women, 
as  wild  and  dissonant  as  the  vociferation  of  birds,  and 
as  difficult  to  understand.  It  is  impossible  to  report  the 
first  outburst  of  such  a  conversation.  The  speakers  con- 
tradicted each  other  and  themselves.  In  one  breath, 
for  instance,  Mrs.  Dumont  alluded  to  the  deceased  mill- 
ionaire as  "  that  Yankee,"  and  in  the  next  called  him 
"brother-in-law  Mather."  She  had  counsel  after  coun- 
sel to  give,  and  differed  from  herself  minute  by  minute. 
There  was  only  one  thing  that  she  stuck  to  :  "  What- 
ever you  do,  Virginia,  I  trust  you  will  do  it  like  a  Beau- 
fort." 

"Oh,  yes,"  the  girl  at  last  retorted,  impatiently. 
"  How  did  they  do  this  sort  of  thing  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  gasped  Mrs.  Dumont,  as  helpless  as 
a  child  in  face  of  the  question.  "But  surely  whatever 
you  decide  to  do  you  can  remember  that  you  are  a  Beau- 
fort." 

Then  Aunt  Chloe  (who  had  hitherto  confined  herself 
chiefly  to  praising  God  and  blessing  Mather)  burst  in- 
dignantly into  the  discussion,  and,  with  arms  akimbo, 
delivered  a  set  speech. 

"  Miss  Ginny,  you  has  got  to  be  sensible  now,"  she 
declared.  ^'  Don  go  to  sayin'  dat  ar  ole-time  nonsense 
over  an'  over.  Miss  Anna  here  talks  like  d'  ole  poll- 
parrot.  He  useter  holler  *  I'm  a  Buf  or'  !  I'm  a  Buf  or' ! ' 
jess  's  loud  's  he  could  screech.  Laws  !  he'd  larned  it 
's  peart  's  Miss  Anna.  Some  of  the  plantin'  ban's  use- 
ter think  he  was  a  Beaufort,  shu  enough.  Does  ye  'mem- 
ber him  ?     He  had  a  hook  nose,  an'  a  limp  like  your 


86  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

graDpa  after  lie  got  gouty.  Ef  dar  ever  was  a  bird 
proud  of  b'longin'  to  a  fam'ly,  'twas  dat  ar  ole,  limpin', 
towsled  poll-parrot.  But  de  fam'ly  ain't  what  it  was. 
Things  has  mightily  changed  with  it.  Dar  ain't  no 
sense  now  hollerin'  *  I'm  a  Bufor' !  I'm  a  Bufor' ! '  De 
time  am  come  fur  to  quit  foolin'  an'  talkin'  bird-talk 
'bout  folks  what's  done  gone  to  glory.  De  time  am 
come  fur  you  to  think  how  you's  gwine  ter  git  some  mo' 
shoes  an'  stockin's." 

"  Do  hush,  Chloe  !  "  interposed  Mrs.  Dumont,  show- 
ing no  offense  at  the  Mauma's  satire,  and  indeed  taking 
no  notice  of  it,  so  preoccupied  was  she  with  curiosity. 
"I  want  to  know  more  about  this  letter.  Oh,  dear  !  what 
a  loss  it  was  to  break  my  spectacles  !  Is  it  the  young 
gentleman  who  writes,  Virginia?  I  hope  his  tone  is 
respectful.  Of  course  a  Yankee  would  be  in  a  great 
rage  to  see  so  much  money  taken  out  of  his  hands." 

"  It  is  not  the  young  gentleman  who  writes,"  said 
Virginia.  She  pondered  a  moment,  drew  herself  up  to 
her  full  height,  and  added,  "  And  the  money  is  not  taken 
out  of  his  hands." 

"  What ! "  screamed  Aunt  Chloe,  comprehending 
with  the  quickness  of  fear.  "  Ain't  you  gwine  ter  take 
anything  ?     O  Miss  Ginny  ! " 

Here  the  old  creature  fell  to  wringing  her  horny 
hands  and  sobbing  like  a  distressed  child. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  87 

CHAPTER   XI. 

After  a  loDg  silence  Mrs.  Dumont  murmured,  "  It  is 
like  a  Beaufort  "  ;  but  she  was  evidently  much  dismayed, 
and  a  tear  rolled  down  her  haggard  cheek. 

"  I  should  like  to  read  the  letter — if  I  had  my  spec- 
tacles," she  added,  in  a  shaking  voice.  "  Are  you  sure, 
Virginia,  that  you  understand  it  ?  Are  you  sure  that 
there  are  conditions  ?  " 

The  girl  read  the  letter  aloud.  The  purport  of  it 
was  clear  enough — she  could  have  the  fortune  if  she 
would  take  the  man. 

*'  The  question  is,"  sighed  Mrs.  Dumont,  and  stopped 
to  meditate — "the  question  is,"  she  resumed,  "what 
ought  a  Beaufort  to  do  under  the  circumstances  ?  " 

"  Go  bar'f  oot,"  scoffed  Aunt  Chloe,  loudly  and  wrath- 
fully. 

"  Go  hungry,"  echoed  Uncle  Phil,  in  a  feeble,  wasp- 
ish tone,  which  gave  notice  of  physical  malaise  and  dis- 
content. 

Virginia  turned  upon  him,  eyed  him  sharply,  and 
asked  :  "  What's  the  matter  with  you,  uncle  ?  You  look 
sick." 

"  'Specs  likely  d'  ole  man's  dinnah  distresses  him," 
said  Mauma  Chloe,  bitterly.  "  Nothin'  sets  wuss  dan 
sour  grapes." 

"  O  Phil !  "  moaned  the  young  lady.  "  Didn't  you 
have  any  dinner  ?     Didn't  you  have  any  at  all  ?  " 

He  tried  to  smile  cheerfully,  but  there  was  hunger 
in  his  eyes,  and  Virginia  understood  their  dumb  com- 
plaint. She  sat  down  on  her  washing-bench,  covered 
her  face  with  her  bare  arms,  like  a  desperate  infant,  and 
sobbed  convulsively.     Mrs.  Dumont  gazed  at  her  with 


88  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

an  air  of  stately  reproof,  as  if  she  wanted  to  say,  "My 
dear,  bear  it  like  a  Beaufort."  Aunt  Chloe,  harrowed 
by  the  grief  of  her  darling,  made  at  her  brother,  and 
demanded  :  "  What'n  you  go  an'  tell  her  'bout  havin' 
no  dinnah  fur  ?     Mus'  like  to  make  her  cry." 

"  Fo'  God,  didn't  tell  her  nuffin  of  de  sawt,"  protest- 
ed Uncle  Phil,  resentfully.  "  Twas  all  got  up  'mongst 
you  women-folks.  Dat's  de  kind  o'  jestice  a  man  gits. 
I  gits  's  much  jestice  as  I  do  hoe-cake." 

"Aunt  Dumont,"  said  Virginia,  lifting  her  head 
from  her  knees,  "  give  Phil  that  fifty-cent  piece." 

"  It's  the  last  money  in  the  house,"  pleaded  the  star- 
tled lady.       "It  was  for  supper." 

"  Give  it  to  him,"  insisted  the  girl.  "  We'll  eat  alike 
as  long  as  we  do  eat. — Phil,  do  you  take  that  and  buy 
some  food.     I  won't  stop  crying  till  you  do." 

She  was  such  a  domineering,  beloved,  spoiled,  ador- 
able pet  !  they  were  all,  black  and  white,  accustomed 
to  yield  to  her  every  passionate  desire.  The  old  negro's 
face  was  pitiful ;  it  was  full  of  shame  and  humiliation 
and  feebleness  ;  he  had  the  cringing  expression  of  a 
famished  dog.  He  wanted  to  refuse  the  precious  gift, 
but  he  was  dragged  toward  it  by  the  urgent  longing  of 
hunger  ;  and  then  there  was  the  hope,  of  course,  that 
some  other  half-dollar  would  ere  long  come  on  the  wings 
of  happy  accident. 

"  I'se  an  ole  man,  or  I  wouldn'  do  it,"  he  stammered 
as  he  took  the  money.  "  It'll  git  suppah,  too.  Miss 
Ginny,"  as  he  tottered  out  of  the  shanty. 

"  We'll  have  our  supper  to-morrow  morning,"  said 
Virginia.  "  We  must  go  to  bed  early  to-night — as  we 
have  done  before." 

"  Something  must  be  done,"  groaned  Mrs.  Dumont. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  89 

"  I  don't  know,  Virginia — of  course  it  is  very  dreadful 
— ^but  Providence  seems  to  be  driving  us  to  it — I  don't 
know  but  you  ought  to — accept." 

"  Dar,  Miss  Ginny  ! "  exclaimed  Aunt  Chloe,  joyfully. 
"  Do  give  in  !  Why,  its  jess  mirac'lous.  Never  heerd 
Miss  Anna  talk  so  much  sense  befo'." 

"I  shall  have  to  take  him,"  moaned  Virginia.  She 
burst  into  a  hysterical  laugh,  and  added,  "  For  Uncle 
Phil's  sake." 

"  Glory  to  God  ! "  shouted  the  delighted  Mauma. 
*'  Oh,  de  Lawd  bless  your  innocent,  sweet  soul,  my  own 
blessed  baby  !  You  has  some  sense,  after  all,  if  you  is 
a  bawn  lady.  Blessed  be  God  dat  he  fotched  us  down 
to  fifty  cents  !  Dar's  no  cure  for  an  em'ty  head  like  an 
em'ty  puss." 

"  And  do  you  really  mean  it,  my  child  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Dumont,  vainly  striving  to  dissemble  her  satisfaction. 

"I — mws^,"  was  the  desperate  response. 

Mrs.  Dumont's  eyes  sparkled  joyfully  ;  nevertheless, 
she  pursed  her  lips  with  gravity  and  dignity ;  then  came 
the  matured  and  weighty  judgment  :  "  Virginia,  I  don't 
know  but  you  have  made  a  mistake." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  aunt !  let  us  think  one  thing  or  the 
other." 

"  I  want  you  always,"  pursued  the  dear  aunt,  trying 
to  whimper,  "  always  to  think  and  act>  like  a  Beaufort." 

"Dar  goes  d'  ole  poll-parrot  agin,"  broke  in  Aunt 
Chloe,  out  of  patience  with  this  unpractical  gabble. 
"  Never  no  Beauf  orts  what  I  ever  heerd  of  let  deirselves 
starve  when  dar  was  vittle  handy." 

Virginia  uttered  one  of  those  bursts  of  spasmodic 
and  mistimed  laughter  which  betoken  hysteria  or  des- 
peration of  spirit.     *'I  am  the  first  Beaufort  that  ever 


90  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

went  hungry,"  she  said.  "I  have  fasted  enough  for  the 
whole  breed.  I  never  will  keep  Lent  again  as  long  as  I 
live." 

*'  Yir — gin — ia  ! "  screamed  Mrs.  Dumont,  who  was 
a  very  churchly  person.  "  How  recklessly  you  talk  ! 
I  believe  you  have  lost  your  senses.  The  Beauforts 
have  always  respected  the  ordinances." 

Uncle  Phil  now  reappeared  with  a  large  piece  of 
corn-cake  in  one  hand,  another  not  very  much  smaller 
piece  in  his  mouth,  and  something  like  a  buckler  of  the 
same  under  his  arm. 

"  Yere's  fur  twenty,"  he  mumbled.  "  An'  yere's 
twenty  dollars.  Miss  Ginny.  General  Hilton  he  met  up 
with  me  an'  tole  how  it  was  somethin'  he  collected  for 
ye  out'n  what  was  owin'  to  yer  father." 

The  girl  took  the  bills  with  hesitation.  "  Why  didn't 
he  keep  it  himself  ?  "  she  said.  "  My  father's  estate  is 
indebted  to  him  for  thousands  of  dollars." 

"Virginia,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  struck  in 
Aunt  Dumont.  "  This  was  owing  to  you,  and,  of  course. 
General  Hilton  ought  to  pay  it,  and  it  is  your  duty  to 
keep  it.  His  own  bill  is  entirely  another  matter.  When 
he  sends  that,  we  will  see  about  it,"  concluded  the  good 
lady  as  composedly  as  if  she  had  thousands  in  bank. 

"  It  is  a  pure  charity,"  declared  Virginia,  who  was 
far  from  suspecting,  by-the-way,  that  it  was  a  dole  out 
of  the  Mather  pocket-book.  "  However — it  is  food — I 
must  take  it." 

"  Aunt  Chloe,  hand  me  a  bit  of  that  corn-cake,"  was 
Mrs.  Dumont's  next  remark.  She  could  have  got  it 
herself  easily,  but  she  had  not  altogether  lost  the  state- 
ly habit  of  bygone  days,  and  retained  an  almost  auto- 
matic preference  for  being  waited  on.     "I  feel,"  she 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  91 

added,  as  she  commenced  eating  heartily — "  I  feel  a  little 
empty-headed." 

"  'Specs  likely,  Miss  Anna,"  responded  Chloe,  wheth- 
er satirically  or  not  it  was  difficult  to  say.  She  gave 
a  large  piece  to  Mrs.  Dumont,  and  then  pressed  a  still 
larger  one  upon  Virginia,  who  was  surveying  the  coarse 
edible  with  an  interest  which  any  one  unused  to  scenes 
of  hunger  would  have  found  wofully  pathetic.  Lastly, 
the  unselfish  soul  helped  herself,  and  devoured  like  an 
earthquake. 

"You  didn'  miss  much  in  missin'  our  dinnah,  ole 
man,"  she  said  to  her  brother.  "  'Twan't  enough  for 
one  Yankee's  dog." 

"  Greedy  Yandals  !  "  mumbled  Mrs.  Dumont,  with 
her  mouth  full.     "  Fattening  on  our  possessions  !  " 

"Ef  dat  was  all  dey  had,"  gobbled  Aunt  Chloe, 
"  't wouldn't  make  'em  'possum-fat." 

"  How  food  does  restore  one's  spunk  and  self-re- 
spect ! "  said  Virginia,  smiling  over  her  slice  of  toasted 
dough.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had  on  shoes  and  stock- 
mgs. 

Then  Mrs.  Dumont  broke  out  with  a  prediction  that 
this  payment  of  twenty  dollars  would  prove  to  be  the 
beginning  of  a  turn  in  the  family  fortunes.  If  General 
Hilton  had  begun  to  collect,  there  was  no  reason  why 
he  should  stop.  She  had  faith  to  believe  that  the  Beau- 
forts  would  recover  all  they  had  lost. 

"Da  's  jess  d' way  'tis,"  corroborated  Uncle  Phil. 
"  Gin'ral  Hilton  he  said  dis  yere  money  wasn'  all — said 
dar  was  as  much  mo'  a-comin' — anyhow,  kinder  hoped 
so." 

"  As  much  more  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  I 
should  think  so  !     Ever  so  much  more  !     Two  hundred 


92  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

thousand  dollars,  at  least. — Virginia,  I  do  hope  you 
won't  be  hasty." 

"Don  you  be  a  spiled  baby  now,"  eagerly  coun- 
seled Mauma  Chloe,  addressing  her  pet.  "  Don  you  go 
fur  to  mind  Phil's  nonsiuse.  Wish  he'd  choke  hisself 
with  hoe-cake  ! " 

"  I  wish  the  Yankee  was  to  marry  you,  Aunt  Du- 
mont,"  laughed  Virginia. 

"  Horrors  !  I  wouldn't  have  him  ! "  screamed  the 
elder  lady,  as  much  in  earnest  as  if  the  thing  were  pos- 
sible, and  perhaps  much  more  so. 

"  And  yet  you  counsel  ??ie,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  flush- 
ing with  sudden  passion. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Dumont. 
*'I  did  not.  It  was  your  own  notion.  What  I  said 
was,  don't  make  a  mistake.     I  leave  it  to  Aunt  Chloe." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  cried  the  haughty,  sensitive, 
vehement,  unreasonable  child,  the  product  of  genera- 
tions of  grandeeism  and  years  of  civil  war.  "  The  idea 
fills  me  with  loathing — the  mere  idea  of  this  match. 
My  very  name  seems  to  forbid  it." 

"  Yes,"  whimpered  Aunt  Dumont — "  all  the  Beau- 
forts  who  fell  fighting  those  wretches  ! — O  Virginia, 
think  of  them  !  " 

However  absurd  her  talk  might  be  under  the  circum- 
stances, and  whether  the  poor  lady  desired  the  Under- 
bill marriage  or  not,  it  was  clear  enough  that  she  was 
quite  sincere  in  her  grief  and  hatred.  Her  emotion 
aroused  all  the  passion  which  lay  in  the  ardent  nature 
of  her  niece. 

"  Think  of  them  !  "  she  replied,  in  a  high,  wild  tone. 
"  I  do  !  They  are  never  out  of  my  thoughts.  I  canH 
marry  a  Yankee." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  93 

"  Dar  ain't  no  Yankee  ast  you  yit,"  stormed  in  Aunt 
Chloe,  trembling  with  disappointment  and  grief.  "  You's 
got  to  wait  till  you's  ast." 

"  I  shall  wait — and  wait  after  that  !  "  declared  the 
girl. 

The  old  Mauma  collapsed  into  a  whimper.  "  Ain't 
you  gwine  to  write  to  him  ?  "  she  pleaded. 

"No!" 

There  was  a  brief  silence.  Mrs.  Dumont,  who  per- 
ceived that  she  had  vindicated  her  character  as  a  good 
Southerner  at  a  frightful  expense,  looked  considerably 
dismayed.  "  I  don't  know,  Virginia,"  she  stammered — 
"  after  all,  I  don't  know— but  this  may  be  a  mistake.  I 
advise  you  not  to  be  hasty.    You  are  always  so  hasty  ! " 

"  Haven't  I  decided  like  a  Beaufort  ?  "  retorted  the 
niece,  impatiently,  not  to  say  scornfully. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  sighed  the  perplexed  and  worried  aunt. 
«  But — if  General  Hilton  shouldn't  collect — what  is  to 
become  of  us  ?  " 

"  Just  what  has  become  of  all  the  other  Beauf  orts. 
We  shall  die,  when  we  do  die,  honorably." 

It  was  not  ranting  ;  it  was  the  sullen  utterance  of 
grief  and  pride  and  desperation  ;  it  had  a  dismal  accent 
of  finality. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  coNSiDEEABLE  time  slipped  by  without  bringing 
to  the  affairs  of  the  Beauforts  any  change  worthy  of 
record. 

No  further  word  arrived  from  the  executors  of  Mr, 
Mather.     They  had  fully  explained  in  their  one  letter 


94  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

that  they  were  empowered  to  advise  Miss  Beaufort  of 
the  conditions  of  the  will,  and  also  to  mail  her  a  liberal 
advance  in  case  she  assented  to  those  conditions.  Hav- 
ing made  this  formal  and  adamantine  statement,  they 
had  fallen  back  into  silence  and  mystery. 

Mysterious,  also,  and  to  an  even  more  perplexing 
and  exasperating  degree,  remained  Mr.  Harry  Underbill. 
Far  from  offering  hand  and  heart,  far  from  throwing 
himself  in  hot  haste  at  the  feet  of  the  Beauf orts,  he  did 
not  write  a  line.  It  began  to  look  as  if  this  irrational, 
low  Yankee  did  not  hanker  after  the  noble  alliance 
which  had  been  arranged  for  him.  Exasperating  sus- 
picions arose  that  he  looked  upon  it  as  a  matter  of  no 
consequence,  which  he  might  attend  to  at  his  leisure,  or 
possibly  leave  entirely  unnoticed.  There  were  shame- 
faced anxieties  lest  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  some  one 
else  ;  there  were  even  unnatural  terrors  lest  the  abomi- 
nated Vandal  might  be  dead. 

Meantime,  the  wolf  of  poverty  went  in  and  out  of 
the  cabin  at  his  ease.  The  heroine  of  our  story  was 
daily  driven  to  marvel  and  shudder  at  the  bigness  of 
his  mouth.  Jobs  of  work  were  few,  and  the  wage  there- 
of scant.  The  pocket-book,  which  had  been  intrusted 
to  General  Hilton,  drawn  upon  as  it  was  by  the  many- 
headed  pauperism  of  Charleston,  eventually  ran  empty. 
As  for  the  Beaufort  estate,  not  only  were  its  debits  far 
superior  to  its  credits,  but  the  latter  could  not  be  gath- 
ered in  by  any  industry  of  attorneys.  The  situation 
was  very  like  that  of  the  Irish  squire  who  said,  "  Sir,  if 
I  could  collect  my  debts — and  by  my  debts  I  mean  what 
I  owe  to  other  people — I  should  be  in  easy  circum- 
stances." 

Things  being  thus  with  the  denizens  of  Mauma  Chloe's 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  95 

shanty,  it  is  not  wonderful  that  they  should  often  dis- 
cuss the  Mather  testament.  A  day  came — Virginia  and 
Mrs.  Dumont  and  Chloe  being  present — when  they  had 
an  unusually  full  and  decisive  interchange  of  views  on 
the  subject. 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  about  it,"  sighed  the  senior 
Beaufort  lady.  "  It  is  dreadful  not  to  know  anything 
at  all  of  a  matter  which  concerns  us  so  much." 

Virginia.  "  It  seems  like  something  which  happened 
in  my  childhood,  or  to  somebody  else.  It  is  fading  out 
of  memory." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Such  struggling  and  pinching  !  it 
is  enough  to  fade  out  everything.  Oh,  what  grubbing 
and  pinching!     80  degrading  !  " 

Virginia.  "  They  talk  about  the  war  being  over.  It 
isn't  over  for  the  widows  and  orphans." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (spitefully).  "  No,  and  never  will  be  ! 
How  can  it  be  ?  " 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  Keeps  it  up  deirselves — some  on  'em. 
Blessed  is  de  peacemakers.  Does  you  'spose  wah-mak- 
ers  is  blessed,  too  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  I'm  sure  God  ought  not  to  starve 
us.  We  work  hard  enough — and  I've  begged,  too — act- 
ually asked  charity — a  bom  lady  !  " 

Aunt  Chloe  (aside).  "An'  a  bawn  goose,  too.  La- 
dy enough,  but  goose  too  much." 

Virginia.  "  Chloe,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  mutter. 
Everything  irritates  me." 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  It's  dumb  ager — comes  o'  workin' 
befo'  breakfuss." 

Virginia.  "How  else  are  we  to  have  breakfast? 
Oh,  dear  !  how  are  we  to  have  it  to-morrow  morning  ? 
Only  a  few  cents  left !  " 


96  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  Dar's  enough  fur  you  to  send  a  lettah 
to  Bosting  an'  say  you's  willin'  to  be  richer'n  King  Sol- 
omon." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  And  abandon  her  commanding  po- 
sition ! — O  Virginia,  your  attitude  is  so  noble  !  No 
other  girl  in  the  South  is  scorning  such  a  fortune  for  the 
sake  of  Southern  principles.  Only  a  Beaufort  could  do 
it.  Still,  you  may  have  to  bend,  if  General  Hilton 
doesn't  collect.  Why  doesnH  he  attend  to  his  business  ? 
There  are  thousands  of  dollars  owing  us — thousands  on 
thousands  of  dollars.     Oh,  if  I  were  a  man  !  " 

Virginia.  "  General  Hilton  can't  make  his  own  col- 
lections, I  fear.  He  dresses  very  shabbily — nothing  but 
old  homespun." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (loftily).  "  It  is  the  dress  of  heroes 
and  gentlemen  ! " 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  An'  niggers.  You  don  see  no  Yan- 
kees in  dose  kind  o'  does.  Reckon  homespun's  out  o' 
fashion  in  Bosting. — Miss  Ginny,  dere  you  is  barefoot 
agin  !     You'll  run  a  nail  inter  you'  foot  some  day." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (shuddering).  "  O  Virginia !  lock- 
jaw !  We  shall  ha'oe  to  give  up.  We  shall  have  to 
swallow  our  pride  and  hate." 

Aunt  Chloe.  "Dar  ain't  much  else  to  swaller. 
Mighty  poo'  f eedin'  dey  is,  too.  Mule  can't  live  on  his 
own  kickin'." 

There  was  an  interval  of  silence,  only  broken  by  the 
dull  thump  of  the  irons  on  the  ironing-table,  and  by  the 
frequent  sighs  of  Mrs.  Dumont.  Then  the  dreary,  wea- 
risome, contradictory  conversation  resumed  its  uncer- 
tain course,  now  flowing  in  a  current  of  assent  to  the  in- 
evitable, and  now  whirling  into  eddies  of  aversion  and 
revolt. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  97 

"  Why  doesn't  he  write  to  me  ? "  complained  Vir- 
ginia, alluding,  of  course,  to  Underhill.  "  Does  he  mean 
that  I  shall  say  the  first  word  ?  That  is  a  man's  business.'^ 

"  So  haughty  and  cruel ! "  snapped  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"He  means  to  roll  us  in  the  dust.  Brother-in-law 
3Iather  was  decent  compared  to  this  creature.  He 
wants  to  humble  the  Beauforts.  That  is  Yankee  hu- 
manity and  courtesy,  I  suppose  !  I  don't  believe  there 
is  one  chivalrous  family— not  one  family  at  all  like  ours 
— in  the  whole  North." 

"Miss  Lizabeth  was  a  Beaufort,"  remarked  Aunt 
Chloe.     "  She  didn'  take  no  shame  to  marry  a  Yankee." 

"  Oh,  my  poor  sister  !  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"  How  she  must  have  suffered  among  those  people  ! 
"What  a  mistake  she  made  !  " 

"She  was  de  brightest  an'  sensiblest  of  d'hull 
fam'ly,"  declared  Aunt  Chloe,  stoutly. 

"She  was  a  very  superior  woman,"  agreed  Mrs.  Du- 
mont. proudly.  "  She  must  have  been  a  very  queen  in 
Boston.  Poor  Elizabeth  !  I  never  saw  her  but  twice 
after  that  unhappy  marriage.  She  looked  healthier  and 
more  cheerful  than  I  expected.  She  bore  up  under  it  as 
only  a  Beaufort  could." 

"  Reckon  'twan't  no  gret  affliction  in  it,"  opined  the 
Mauma.  "  Didn'  have  to  live  on  hoe-cake  an'  go  bar'- 
legged." 

At  this  point  Virginia,  who  had  apparently  been 
carrying  on  a  sad  and  stern  meditation,  broke  out  in  her 
impassioned  way  :  "  Aunt  Dumont  !  shall  I  write  ?  " 

"  O  child !  what  can  a  relative  say  ?  Remember 
who  you  are,"  was  the  enlightening  resj^onse. 

"An'  kinder  'member,  too,  what  you've  got,"  added 
Aunt  Chloe,  surlily. 
5 


98  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

"  I  don't  love  him,"  said  Virginia,  much  as  if  she 
had  been  trying  to,  and  regretted  that  she  could  not. 
Then,  bursting  into  a  sardonic  laugh,  she  added,  "  Who 
ever  asked  me  to  ?  " 

"  It's  a  shame,"  affirmed  Mrs.  Dumont,  with  severe 
emphasis — "  it's  a  burning  shame  that  he  treats  you  so  ! 
He  ought  to  have  written  at  once.  A  South  Carolina 
gentleman  would  have  done  that.  Well,  perhaps  not 
to  a  Yankee  girl,"  she  subjoined,  on  reflection.  "  No,  in- 
deed— of  course  not !  "  she  concluded  with  proper  spirit. 

"  This  is  such  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Virginia,  im- 
patiently. "  I  mean  my  hesitation  is  nonsensical,"  she 
explained,  remembering  her  aunt's  feelings.  "  I  yynist 
write,  and  I  wilV* 

"  Oh,  my  child  !  what  are  you  going  to  write  ? — 
what  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Dumont,  pressing  her  hand  con- 
vulsively to  her  breast  and  rolling  up  her  eyes. 

"  I  shall  say  that  I  consent  to  the  marriage,"  replied 
the  girl,  meanwhile  searching  the  drawer  of  the  ironing- 
table  for  her  meager  stock  of  writing  materials. 

*'  Oh,  mercy  !  "  gasped  the  elder  lady.  "  To  think 
of  a  Beaufort  coming  to  that !  " 

"  Shall  I  refuse,  then  ?  "  demanded  Virginia,  sullenly. 

"  No,  no  !  I  didn't  say  so.  Dear,  dear,  dear  !  how 
shall  we  put  it  ?  On  reflection,  my  dear,  I  think  you 
have  put  it  very  delicately  ;  it  is  as  though  the  proposal 
had  come  from  him,  the  ungentlemanly  fellow  !  Yes, 
say  consent — that  is  the  very  word." 

"  I  shall  not  disguise  my  feelings,"  continued  Miss 
Beaufort,  looking  up  nobly  from  her  one  sheet  of  note- 
paper  already  spread  on  the  ironing-board.  "I  shall 
tell  him  frankly  that  I  accept  the  alliance  solely  because 
of  my  poverty  and  that  of  my  family." 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  99 

"  Don'  you  go  fur  to  tell  hira  no  sech  foolish  non- 
sinse  !  "  protested  Aunt  Chloe.  "  Tell  him  you  likes 
him  ;  say  you's  a-dyin'  fur  him." 

Virginia's  solemn  and  lofty  tone  changed  into  a 
burst  of  girlish  laughter,  perhaps  a  little  nervous  and 
hysterical  in  its  foundational  nature.  "  Why,  you  old 
goose  !  "  she  giggled,  "  I  never  saw  him.  He  wouldn't 
believe  it." 

"  Bet  you  he  would.  Dey  allays  doos,  de  men- 
folks,"  asserted  Chloe. 

"  I  shall  tell  him  that  I  demand  nothing  of  him  per- 
sonally," pursued  Virginia,  resuming  her  serious  mood. 
"I  shall  tell  him  that  I  leave  him  his  entire  freedom." 

"  What !  "  stared  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Live  apart  ?  That 
would  be  very  unusual — in  a  Beaufort.  Besides,  he 
might  take  offense,  my  dear.     Do  be  careful." 

"  I  thought  you  had  an  aversion  to  the  match,"  said 
the  girl,  losing  patience.  "  I  thought  you  objected  to 
it." 

"  O  Virginia,  you  quite  misunderstand  my  posi- 
tion," declared  the  elder  lady  in  that  sugared  tone  of 
pacification  which  is  so  hard  to  bear,  because  it  inti- 
mates that  the  person  addressed  has  an  unreasonable 
spirit  and  a  peevish  temper.  "  What  I  think  is  that, 
under  the  circumstances — our  present  dreadful  circum- 
stances— you  may  have  to — to  bend.  If  Elizabeth 
could  bear  it,  you  can,  my  dear." 

"  ]^ow  dat's  human  talk,  dat  ar  is,"  approved  Aunt 
Chloe.  "  D'  ain't  no  poll-parrot  in  all  dat.  As  fur  Miss 
Ginny  not  wantin'  to  be  married,  never  heerd  no  gal 
talk  different.  Smart  dog  always  allow  he  can't  bear 
sheep-meat." 

"  Of  course  I  grieve  for  you,"  continued  Mrs.  Du- 


100  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

mont,  striving  in  vain  to  shed  a  tear.  "  Snch  a  sacri- 
fice !     Ah,  dear  !  " 

"  O  Miss  Anna  !  do  stop  you'  mouf,"  interrupted 
the  old  negress,  exceedingly  troubled  and  angered. 
"  Wish  you  was  little  enough  to  be  spanked." 

Mrs.  Dumont  was  horrified  ;  she  really  did  weep 
now.  "  I  never  thought,"  she  sobbed,  "  to  be  so  ad- 
dressed by  one  of  our  own  people." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  Miss  Anna,"  apologized  Aunt  Chloe, 
whimpering  also.  "  I'se  so  mad  to  see  Beauf  orts  hungry 
an'  bar'legged !  I  don  bust  out  so  'cause  I'se  free.  I 
hain't  got  no  mo'  rights  nor  I  had  befo'  the  wah.  I 
allays  did  have  a  right  to  speak  up  fur  Beauf  orts,  even 
agin  deirselves." 

"Never  mind,  Chloe,"  returned  Mrs.  Dumont,  who 
was  as  much  of  a  lady  as  one  well  could  be  with  her 
parts.  "  I  know  you  are  faithful,  and  mean  to  be  re- 
spectful. I  shall  remember  you  for  it,"  she  promised 
with  an  air  of  munificence. — "  And  now,  Virginia,  as  to 
that  match.  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  it  broken  off 
now." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  the  girl,  ironically.  "  It  would 
be  a  pity  to  break  it  off.     Such  a  scandal !  " 

"  An'  you  means  to  tell  him  you  ain't  gwine  ter  live 
with  him  ?  "  demanded  Aunt  Chloe. 

"  Yes,  plainly  and  firmly  ;  that  is  what  I  shall  tell 
him." 

The  widow  shook  her  experienced  head.  "  I  think, 
Virginia,"  she  hesitated — "  wouldn't  it  be  better  to  tell 
him  so,  plainly  and  firmly,  of  course,  but  aftericardf'' 

"  O  aunt  !  "  stared  the  niece.  "  What  a  Yankee 
trick  !  You  seem  to  forget  that  I  am  a  South  Caroli- 
nian and  a  Beaufort." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  101 

"Fox  like  to  go  to  church,  ef  he  kin  walk  home 
with  chicken,"  grinned  Aunt  Chloe. 

Mrs.  Dumont  looked  extremely  confused.  There 
was  a  silence  for  a  minute  or  two.  Then  the  fatiguing 
dialogue  dribbled  on  once  more. 

Virginia  (looking  up  from  her  writing).  "I— can- 
not— live  with  him." 

Aunt  Chloe  (with  arms  akimbo).  "Is  you  a  grown 
woman,  or  a  baby  ?  Does  you  s'pose  a  grown-up  man 
— a  man  as  wears  britches  an'  tail-coats — is  a-gwine  ter 
agree  not  to  marry  his  wife  ?  You  two's  jess  talkin' 
like  folks  in  a  di'eam." 

3frs.  Dumont.  "Z  didn't  propose  it,  Chloe.  I 
didn't  propose  this  absurd  plan.  Of  course,  I  hope  he 
will  accept  it.  He  may.  Just  consider  what  an  honor 
even  that  is  to  him !  We  might  concede  something. 
"We  might  allow  him  to  take  the  Beaufort  name." 

Virginia  (writing).  "  Aunt,  how  could  I  live  with 
him  ?  Remember  my  poor  brothers.  You  loved  them. 
— And  you  loved  them  too,  Chloe,  didn't  you  ?  " 

Aunt  Chloe.  "I  loves  you  a  heap  better,  chile.  I 
wants  you  to  write  a  sonsible  lettah,  an'  not  put  in  no 
poll-parrot  talk." 

Virginia  (laughing  bitterly).  "I  am  writing  my 
offer  of  marriage.     That  ought  to  satisfy  you." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (smiting  her  breast).  "  Oh,  my  dear  ! 
my  poor  dear  !     Are  you  quite  determined  ?  " 

Virginia  (tartly).  "  I  am." 

3frs.  Dumont.  "  O  Virginia  !  you  are  always  so  ir- 
ritable when  I  make  a  remark,  but  I  can't  help  saying  I 
hope  you  are  not  making  a  mistake." 

Aimt  Chloe.  "  Now  you  wants  her  to,  an'  now  you 
don  want  her  to.    Question  is  yere,  what  does  he  want  ?  " 


102  THE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

Virginia.  "  Just  so,  Chloe.  But  we  shall  know  that. 
The  letter  is  written." 

3frs.  Duniont.  "  Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear  !  Shall  we 
send  it?" 

Aunt  Chloe.  "A  pusson  would  s'pose.  Miss  Anna, 
de  young  gen'leman  was  a-gwine  ter  marry  bofe  of 
you." 

"  There  !  "  exclaimed  Virginia.  She  had  finished 
the  letter,  and  the  superscription  thereof.  As  she  looked 
at  it,  the  full  sense  of  what  it  included  and  might  in- 
clude seemed  to  come  into  her  mind,  for  a  deep  blush 
of  womanly  modesty  suddenly  flooded  her  whole  face, 
and  her  eyes  sank  to  the  floor.  For  a  moment  she  sat 
shrinking  and  irresolute ;  then  she  rose  in  silence  and 
put  on  her  frayed  and  faded  hat. 

"  It  7yiust  go,"  she  gasped,  without  glancing  at  either 
her  aunt  or  her  old  nurse.  "  I  will  mail  it  myself,  to 
make  sure." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  first  consequence  of  Yirginia  Beaufort's  letter 
was  that  Underhill  at  once  made  a  rapid  journey  to 
Charleston. 

Immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  looked  up  General 
Hilton,  the  lawyer  and  devoted  friend  of  the  Beauforts, 
and,  not  finding  him  at  his  ofiice,  left  a  pressing  mes- 
sage, begging  him  to  call  at  the  hotel.  During  the 
evening,  therefore,  the  wooden-legged  veteran  stumped 
into  the  young  man's  private  parlor. 

The  meeting  was  friendly  and  courteous,  but  slight- 
ly ceremonious.      Underhill,  naturally  frank  and  easy 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  103 

and  genial  in  manner,  showed  a  seriousness  almost 
amounting  to  anxiety,  and  spoke  with  unusual  elab- 
orateness of  address.  Hilton,  who  had  not  even  the 
smell  of  whisky  upon  him,  behaved  as  if  he  had  gone 
into  training  for  the  interview.  He  evidently  realized 
that  he  had  before  him  a  capitalist,  and  a  person  who 
could  weightily  influence  the  fate  of  one  whom  he  held 
very  dear.  Self -respectful  as  a  gentleman  should  be, 
and  dignified  in  bearing  by  habit  and  by  the  gift  of  an 
imposing  figure,  he  was  even  more  carefully  urbane  than 
common,  as  well  as  more  reserved  and  watchful.  He 
bowed,  shook  hands,  smiled,  and  said  :  "You  wanted  to 
see  me.  Colonel.  I  am  very  much  indebted  to  you.  The 
wish  is  a  compliment." 

"  General,  you  oblige  me  greatly  by  calling,"  was 
the  young  man's  response.  "  I  had  no  doubt,  of  course, 
that  you  would  favor  me.  You  were  very  courteous  to 
me  during  my  former  visit." 

"  Don't  mention  it,"  begged  Hilton. 

"  You  may  suppose  that  I  wouldn't  have  risked  put- 
ting you  to  this  trouble  for  any  slight  matter,"  pursued 
Underhill.  "  I  wanted  a  long  and  private  conversation 
concerning  your  friends  and  my  connections,  the  Beau- 
forts." 

"  I  suspected  as  much.     I  am  exceedingly  gratified 

to  make  sure  of  it." 

"You  remember  my  uncle's  talk  about  his  will,  I 
presume.  Well,  he  actually  made  it— the  strangest 
will — the  maddest — " 

"  Excuse  me  ;  I  hope  no  offense,  but  I  know  all 
about  it.  As  the  legal  adviser  and  old  friend  of  the 
family,  you  understand." 

"  Very  proper.    They  did  quite  right  to  consult  you. 


104  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Well,  I  have  received — "  Here  the  young  gentleman 
hesitated  ;  he  did  not  know  how  much  Hilton  knew  of 
the  matrimonial  imbroglio  ;  he  found  it  embarrassing 
to  unveil  what  might  be  a  young  lady's  secret. 

"  Yes,  you  received  an  assent  from  Miss  Beaufort," 
added  the  General.  "  Pardon  me  for  being  so  well  in- 
formed." 

"  Oh,  very  good  ! "  nodded  Harry,  drawing  a  sigh 
of  relief  and  dropping  his  ceremoniousness.  "  Glad  you 
know  all.     Saves  explanations." 

"  And  you  will  try  to  see  her,  may  I  hope  ?  "  in- 
quired Hilton. 

Underhill  pondered.  "I  am  sorry  for  this  young 
lady,"  he  said  at  last.  "  If  this  marriage  doesn't  take 
place,  she  gets  nothing.  My  uncle  did  a  very  strange 
and  very  cruel  thing.  I  sometimes  think  that  he  was 
in  reality  a  little  insane." 

"  It  is  a  common  saying  among  lawyers  that  a  man 
frequently  saves  up  all  his  lunacy  for  his  last  will  and 
testament.  Well,  it  was  a  cruel  will,  since  you  permit 
me  to  say  so." 

"  Very  hard  on  her — his  wife's  niece — very  hard  ! 
All  the  more  so  as  I  don't  lose  my  half  if  I  refuse  the 
marriage." 

"  There  was  no  reason  why  you  should,"  conceded 
the  General.  But  he  looked  very  sad,  for  he  could  not 
help  discerning  that  Underhill  was  not  inclined  to  the 
match,  and  a  fear  came  upon  him  that  his  pet,  the  last 
of  the  Beauforts,  was  doomed  to  a  life  of  penury. 

"  Well,  now,"  resumed  the  younger  man,  "  you  know 
the  terms  of  Miss  Beaufort's  letter,  I  suppose.  Don't 
you  think  she  rides  a  rather  high  horse  ?  " 

"I  want   you   to   pardon   the   poor,   inexi^erienced 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  105 

child,  if  possible.  Please  consider  how  she  has  been 
tortured  :  a  girlhood  of  poverty,  and  calamity,  and 
mourning  ;  property  lost — brothers  lost  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  that.     Am  I  responsible  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  useless  to  open  a  discussion  on  that 

point." 

"  Oh,  quite  so.    My  question  was  absurd.    I  will  try 

to  look  at  the  matter  practically." 

The  General  bowed  his  thanks  ;  he  continued  to  be 
very  polite,  almost  submissive.  "I  concede  that  her 
terms  are  quixotic,"  he  went  on.  *'  But  how  long  will 
she  insist  upon  them  ?  At  her  age  people  change  their 
ideas  easily.  Moreover,  she  is  honorable,  particularly 
high-minded.  I  think  she  will  soon  become  ashamed  of 
receiving  much  and  giving  nothing.  It  is  not  Southern 
fashion  ;  it  is  not  Beaufort  fashion." 

"All  that  is  true  enough,  I  presume,"  admitted  Un- 
derhill.  Then  he  added  with  a  light  smile,  "  And  there 
would  be  something  poetic,  too,  in  a  fellow  courting  his 
own  wife,  if  he  could  make  her  acquaintance." 

The  General  smiled  also,  but  rather  sorrowfully. 
"  I  don't  like  to  laugh  about  it,"  he  said,  gently.  "  It 
is  to  my  mind  a  serious  and  sad  affair." 

"Well,  that  depends  somewhat  upon  Miss  Beaufort. 
Do  you  think  she  will  insist  upon  her  programme— meet, 
marry,  and  separate  ?  " 

Hilton  gazed  at  the  young  man,  gravely  and  without 
speaking.  He  clearly  knew  that  the  girl  would  so  in- 
sist, and  dreaded  to  avow  it. 

"Yery  well,"  Underhill  laughed,  with  some  natural 
petulance.  "  Then  I  shall  get  on  as  best  I  can  without  her." 

"I  am  extremely  grieved,  sir.  I  am  not  surprised, 
of  course." 


106  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  This  drives  me  to  look  up  my  Irish  nightingale,  or 
some  other  nightingale  that  is  willing  to  sing,"  pursued 
the  young  man.  "  I  really  did  and  do  want  a  musical 
wife,  so  far  as  I  want  one  at  all." 

The  General  made  no  reply,  and  appeared  so  exceed- 
ingly cast  down,  that  the  Colonel  pushed  forward  a  de- 
canter of  whisky  and  urged  him  to  try  the  quality  of  it. 

"  Thank  you  !  "  sighed  Hilton,  shaking  his  head. 
"  But  do  me  the  very  great  favor  to  excuse  me.  I  have 
lately  taken  a  resolution  to  evade  that  sort  of  inspira- 
tion when  I  have  serious  matters  to  think  of.  I  have 
learned  that  alcohol  is  a  poor  counselor,  and  I  begin  to 
doubt  whether  it  is  a  good  consoler.  This  affair  lies 
very  near  my  heart,  and  I  prefer  to  treat  it  without 
whisky. " 

But  Underbill  had  apparently  determined  not  to  talk 
any  more  about  the  Beaufort  alliance.  "  Miss  Macmor- 
ran  is  here  still,  isn't  she?"  he  asked.  "Have  you 
heard  her  sing  yet  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  the  soprano  of  St.  Patrick's  ?  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  not  of  hearing  her  sing  but  of  speaking 
with  her." 

"  Ah,  General  !  Lucky  dog  !  Take  care  !  I  may 
make  a  personal  matter  of  it." 

"  I  have  had  twenty  years  of  marriage.  Colonel," 
said  Hilton,  seriously.  "  When  a  man  alights  at  the  end 
of  such  a  journey  as  that  he  feels  like  asking  if  people 
ever  marry  twice,  just  as  Lord  Chesterjfield  asked  if  peo- 
ple ever  hunted  twice.  I  don't  mean  that  I  was  unhap- 
py— far  from  it !  But  marriage  is  a  struggle — that  is, 
for  a  poor  gentleman.  One  such  jaunt  is  enough  for  a 
lifetime." 

Underbill  gazed  at  him  with  the  vague  sympathy 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  107 

and  respect  which  the  novice  accords  to  the  tried  vet- 
eran. "I  know  nothing  of  struggles,"  he  confessed. 
"  I  feel  like  a  small  fellow,  compared  with  those  who 
have  had  them.  Miss  Macmorran  has  struggled,  and  I 
admire  her  for  it.    What  did  you  think  of  her.  General  ?" 

Hilton  could  not  have  wanted  to  eulogize  the  pretty 
Irish  singer  just  then,  but  he  was  too  honest  and  high- 
minded  to  say  anything  but  the  truth,  or  anything  short 
of  the  truth.  "  She  is  a  very  modest  and  i^leasing  young 
lady,"  he  declared. 

"  Isn't  she  ! "  smiled  Underhill,  obviously  gratified. 
"  What  a  sweet,  nun-like  way  she  has  of  casting  down 
her  eyes,  just  lifting  them  shyly  to  your  face  when  you 
speak,  and  then  dropping  them  !  It  is  prodigiously  fas- 
cinating. I  think  that  girl,  in  spite  of  defects  of  edu- 
cation, might  make  an  admirable  wife — such  a  gentle, 
meek  wife  as  men  dream  of." 

The  General  had  a  troubled  air  of  carrying  on  a  per- 
plexing discussion  with  himself.  There  was  apparently 
something  on  his  mind  which  he  wished  to  say,  while  he 
doubted  whether  it  would  be  fair  and  gentlemanly  to 
say  it.  At  last,  with  an  apologetical  smile,  he  contin- 
ued, "  I  saw  her  family,  also." 

"  What  !  "  laughed  the  Colonel.  "  You  went  to  her 
house  and  she  let  you  in  !  You  must  have  some  talis- 
man." 

"  I  was  caught  by  a  storm  of  rain.  Miss  Macmor- 
ran was  thoughtful  enough  to  offer  shelter  to  a  limping 
old  fellow." 

"  Lucky  storm  !  I  wish  I  could  find  one  in  that 
neighborhood.  You  must  know  that  I  never  have  been 
allowed  to  call  on  her.  Well,  what  were  her  surround- 
ings ?  " 


108  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

'•'The  young  lady  is  the  pearl  of  the  family,  Colonel. 
She  seems  out  of  place  in  it." 

"  Oh,"  muttered  Underhill,  "  the  others  are  rather 
common,  I  suppose.     I  never  saw  them." 

"  The  mother  is  a  worn  woman — has  done  a  srood 
deal  of  washing,  I  fancy ;  her  rounded  back  tells  the 
plaintive  story  of  labor — hard  and  long  labor." 

"  Gracious  !  I  hadn't  guessed  a  mother — a  washer- 
woman mother." 

"There  is  a  sister,  also — a  hard-featured,  strongly 
built  person  of  thirty — who  is  at  service  in  a  Northern 
family  here,  as  I  understood." 

Underhill  absolutely  blushed.  The  sister  of  his  St. 
Cecilia  at  service  !  One's  own  possible  sister-in-law  ! 
*'  It's  perfectly  dreadful,"  he  grumbled,  "  to  think  of 
that  sweet  girl  dans  cette  galere  !  " 

"  It  reminds  one  of  an  angel  with  human  relatives," 
answered  the  General,  expressing  himself  with  poetic 
delicacy,  though  he  could  not  have  been  ill  pleased  with 
the  impression  which  he  had  produced.  "  They  are  en- 
tirely decent  people.  Colonel,  and  honorably  self -respect- 
ful. I  was  pleased  to  see  that  they  were  not  ashamed 
of  their  humble  interior,  and  that  Miss  Macmorran  was 
not  ashamed  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood.  But,  as  a  fam- 
ily, they  are  not  of  our  sort." 

"Of  course,  I  might  have  supposed  all  this,"  resumed 
the  young  man,  after  a  moment  of  brooding.  "  In  fact, 
I  did  suppose  something  of  the  kind,  but  not  with  any 
distinctness  or  reality  ;  couldn't  make  a  clear  picture 
of  it — didn't  want  to.  The  truth  is,  that  I  have  been 
idealizing  that  girl,  and  idealizing  everything  about  her. 
If  you  like  fine  music,  you  can  understand  it.  Well,  I 
must  stop  making  poetry  on  that  subject.     I  meant  to 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  109 

go  and  see  Miss  Macmorran,  if  the  little  nun  would  let 
me.     But  I  mustn't.     It  couldn't  come  to  any  good." 

"No,  you  mustn't  go  there,"  said  Hilton,  with  the 
smile  of  a  good-hearted  senior  addressing  a  hot-headed 
junior  whom  he  admires  for  worthy  qualities.  "You 
don't  want  to  turn  that  good  child's  head  merely  for 
your  passing  amusement." 

"It  would  be  shabby,  General,"- Underbill  sighed. 
"I  can't  be  shabby.  Once  an  officer  and  gentleman, 
always  an  officer  and  gentleman." 

"  I  wish  you  were  a  South  Carolinian,  Colonel,"  de- 
clared Hilton,  with  honest  fervor.  "  But,  merely  as  a 
brother  man  and  brother  soldier,  I  am  proud  of  you." 

Underbill  laughed  cheerfully.  He  was  evidently 
gratified  by  the  compliment.  "  General,  you  are  too 
much  for  me,"  he  said.  "  You  make  me  want  to  do 
something  noble.  Well,  now,  since  this  subject  is  closed 
for  ever,  let  us  talk  once  more  of  my  uncle's  project." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

To  General  Hilton  it  must  have  seemed  a  little  like 
sacrilege  to  change  the  conversation  so  abruptly  from 
the  daughter  of  a  washer- woman  to  the  daughter  of  one 
of  the  noblest  families  of  the  Palmetto  State.  He 
probably  had  irritable  reflections  concerning  the  obtuse- 
ness  of  Northern  democracy,  and  the  ingrained  lack  of 
delicacy  in  the  Yankee  nation.  On  the  other  hand,  as 
he  was  a  peculiarly  self-possessed  and  rational  gentle- 
man, he  no  doubt  remembered  that  Underbill  must 
regard  Virginia  Beaufort  as  an  embarrassing  and  even 


110  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

hostile  personage,  and  exhibited  at  least  good-nature  in 
being  able  to  talk  of  her  without  vindictiveness.  At 
all  events,  his  countenance  and  demeanor  revealed  nei- 
ther vexation,  nor  surprise,  nor  impatience.  He  gazed 
tranquilly  and  blandly  at  the  young  man,  while  waiting 
with  keen  anxiety  for  him  to  speak. 

"  As  for  Miss  Beaufort,"  resumed  Underbill,  "  can 
I  see  her  ?  " 

The  General  took  from  his  breast-pocket  a  large  en- 
velope, tenderly  drew  therefrom  an  "  imperial  "  photo- 
graph, and  laid  it  on  the  table  between  them.  It  was 
his  own  valued  copy,  paid  for  out  of  his  own  beggarly 
pocket,  of  the  likeness  of  the  beautiful  ultimate  Beau- 
fort. Underbill  bent  over  it  with  an  expression  which 
rapidly  changed  from  curiosity  to  admiration.  Hilton 
watched  him  with  anxiety,  and  then  smiled  with  simple, 
honest,  sympathetic  pleasure. 

"  She  is  handsomer  than  I  supposed,"  murmured  the 
young  fellow.  "  My  uncle  said  she  was  very  handsome. 
But  this  is  a  remarkable  face.  It's  astonishinor  how 
blood  tells.  That's  a  w^onderf  ully  high-bred  air.  Gen- 
eral. Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  that  she  was  a 
Diana  victrix  ?  " 

"  There  never  was  a  Beaufort  who  hadn't  that  air — 
at  least  to  some  degree,"  returned  Hilton,  in  a  tone  of 
beatitude. 

"  Yes  ;  she  resembles  my  aunt,  the  only  Beaufort 
that  I  ever  saw,"  nodded  Underbill,  still  studying  the 
portrait. 

"Your  aunt  was  a  most  charming  lady,"  said  the 
General ;  "  and  a  model  wdf e,  I  believe,"  he  sagaciously 
added. 

"  My  uncle  had  no  reason  to  complain,"  replied  Har- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  HI 

ry,  Ic/oking  up  sharply.  "  But  his  wife  lived  with  him. 
There  is  the  trouble  in  this  case  ;  there  is  to  be  no  liv- 
ing together.  I  don't  want  to  marry,  and  then  go  mad 
about  ray  beauty  of  a  wife,  because  I  can't  win  her  lik- 
ing, and  somebody  else  can." 

"  Oh  !  That  last  idea  is  insupposable,"  exclaimed 
Hilton,  looking  almost  angry  enough  to  ring  for  pistols. 
"  I  know  this  girl.  She  is  a  Beaufort  and  a  South  Caro- 
lina lady." 

*'  Pardon  me,"  said  Underhill,  but  he  nearly  laughed 
at  the  Southerner's  heat,  and  at  the  general  oddity 
of  the  situation.  "  Please  observe  that  absence  might 
breed  suspicion,  even  when  there  was  no  reason  for  it. 
I  can't  help  insisting  that  my  uncle  and  my  prospective 
wife  have  laid  a  heavy  burden  upon  me." 

"  Certainly — for  the  present,"  admitted  the  General. 
"  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  proper  to  remember — you  will 
excuse  me,  I  hope,  for  suggesting  it — it  seems  proper  to 
remember  that  you  owe  your  uncle  something." 

"  Oh,  yes — everything  in  reason.  But  is  this  rea- 
sonable ?  " 

"  I  can  imagine  that  he  had  this  match  very  much  at 
heart.    He  had  loved  a  Beaufort  a  great  many  years." 

"  Well,  let  my  uncle  pass.  I  owe  him  too  much  to 
want  to  have  the  air  of  saying  anything  against  him. 
But  how  is  it " — glancing  at  the  photograph — "  how  is 
it  with  this  lovely  young  person  ?    Is  she  reasonable  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  conceded  Hilton,  "  Miss  Beaufort  is  not  rea- 
sonable. But  I  hope  and  believe  that  Mrs.  Underhill 
will  be." 

The  Colonel  uttered  a  laugh  of  incredulity  and  im- 
patience. "  I  should  like  to  know  what  chance  you  can 
see  of  it,"  he  retorted. 


112  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Once  more  the  General  explained  that  Virginia  was 
a  baited  and  irritated  woman  ;  that  she  was  high-spirit- 
ed and  not  to  be  put  down  by  baiting — only  angered  by 
it.  What  she  needed  to  soften  her  and  render  her  sym- 
pathetic, he  argued,  was  a  taste  of  prosperity.  He  be- 
lieved that  to  noble  souls  prosperity  was  humanizing  ; 
it  brought  them  to  want  to  bestow  happiness  upon  their 
fellow-creatures. 

"  Of  course,  I  hope  so,"  assented  Underhill.  "  But 
I  don't  know  that  it  will  turn  out  so  in  this  particular 
case.  I  am  afraid  Miss  Beaufort  has  suffered  too  much 
ever  to  forget  or  forgive." 

"  She  must  be  got  out  of  this  atmosphere,  no  doubt," 
said  Hilton.  "  The  very  air  of  South  Carolina  is  loaded 
with  sorrow  and  wrath.  She  hears  words  of  vindictive- 
ness  every  day,  here.  But  let  her  once  go  ^N^orth,  or  to 
Europe — let  her  abide  only  a  few  months  afar  from 
our  desolation — she  will  be  unable  to  keep  up  her  vivid 
remembrance  of  injuries.  When  she  once  begins  to 
forget,  she  will  begin  to  forgive." 

"  Forgive  me — her  husband  !  "  Underhill  laughed 
with  comprehensible  bitterness. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  envy  you,"  the  General  declared, 
not  only  with  seriousness,  but  with  something  like  en- 
thusiasm. "  It  will  be  a  fine  moment — that  moment  of 
reconciliation." 

"  Yes  ;  I  see  all  that.  I  have  an  imagination."  The 
young  man  smiled,  rather  amused  by  the  senior's  tone 
of  romance.  "  But  there  is  the  previous  humiliation  ! 
Just  think  of  it — dismissed  at  the  church- door — like  the 
sexton,  or  a  beggar  !  Obliged  to  sue  humbly,  for  years 
perhaps,  because  somebody  else  ate  forbidden  fruit,  or 
didn't  eat  it !     Forgiven  at  last  for  nothing  !     Keally, 


TEE  BLOODY  CEA8M.  113 

the  programme  is  almost  alluring  through  its  oddity — 
through  its  unlikeness  to  anything  out  of  ballads  and 
fairy-stories.  Such  a  chance  doesn't  come  once  in  a 
man's  lifetime." 

"  Colonel,  such  a  chance  doesn't  come  to  one  man  in 
a  hundred  millions,"  returned  Hilton,  fervently.  "It  is 
a  sacrifice  of  pride  and  of  feeling,  I  admit.  But  it  is 
a  sacrifice  worthy  of  a  chivalrous  gentleman  and  of  a 
great  soul." 

"  And  you  would  do  this  ? "  stared  Underhill. 
"  Word  of  honor.  General !  " 

"  Word  of  honor.  Colonel  !  "  declared  Hilton  with 
solemnity  ;  "  if  I  were  in  your  place  I  would  not  let  the 
opportunity  slip.  As  Heaven  is  my  witness,  I  would 
seize  it ! " 

The  young  man  meditated  for  some  moments  in 
silence  ;  when  he  spoke  again  it  was  in  a  tone  of  pro- 
found seriousness.  "  If  I  don 't  do  this,  she  will  have 
nothing,"  he  murmured.      "  And  if  I  do — " 

"  You  will  have  your  reward  somehow,"  interposed 
the  General.  "  Depend  upon  that,  my  dear  Colonel — 
you  will  have  your  reward." 

"  In  the  next  world,  perhaps,"  said  Underhill,  shak- 
ing his  head  gravely. 

"  Certainly  there  ! "  returned  Hilton  with  emphasis. 
"  And  here,  too  !  It  is  worth  something  in  this  life  to 
be  conscious  of  a  deed  of  singular  mercy  and  self-abne- 
gation, even  if  it  brings  no  recognition  from  those  whom 
it  benefits.  The  greatest  names  in  earthly  history  are 
the  names  of  those  who  have  suffered  for  the  uncom- 
prehending and  ungrateful." 

Underhill  rose  slowly  from  his  chair  and  walked  the 
room  for  some  minutes  in  silence.     At  last  he  halted  in 


IM  THE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

front  of  his  anxious  companion,  gave  him  his  hand  with 
a  bright,  cheerful  smile,  and  said,  in  a  tranquil  voice, 
"  Very  well,  let  it  be  done." 

The  General  started  up  w^ith  a  vivacity  which  made 
his  wooden  leg  creak,  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  thanks 
and  joy — of  congratulation  and  panegyric.  With  pa- 
thetic fervor  and  with  unhesitating  confidence  he  prom- 
ised the  Colonel  his  reverence  for  life,  and  the  reverence 
of  every  chivalrous  gentleman  and  of  every  true  South- 
erner. He  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  and  called 
him  the  Bayard  of  the  age.  He  said  all  these  things 
without  being  absurd,  and  without  seeming  to  be  ex- 
travagant. His  Southern  fluency,  and  the  fervid  beat- 
ing of  his  Southern  heart,  made  his  very  hyperbole  con- 
vincing and  touching.  It  was  evident  that  the  man  was 
an  orator,  and  that  Kature  had  done  more  than  art  to 
make  him  one. 

At  last  Underbill  found  opportunity  to  reply  : 
"  Thank  you,  thank  you  exceedingly.  I  hope  it  will 
turn  out  as  you  predict,  and  I  wish  I  were  as  grand  a 
fellow  as  you  say." 

Then,  after  they  had  resumed  their  seats,  he  picked 
up  the  photograph  and  studied  it  intently,  as  if  seeking 
to  discover  some  softness  and  sign  of  pliability  in  the 
high-bred  features. 

"  I  shall  keep  this,"  he  observed  ;  "  so  much,  at  least, 
is  mine." 

"  I  feel  at  liberty  to  leave  it  with  you,"  bowed  Hil- 
ton, who  clearly  had  not  been  commissioned  so  to  do. 
"May  I  suggest  that  it  might  be  well  to  send  her 
yours  ? " 

Underhill  did  not  answer  for  a  little  ;  he  seemed  to  be 
meditating  earnestly.  At  last  he  said,  "  She  will  see  me." 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  115 

It  was  now  the  General's  turn  to  hesitate  and  pon- 
der. "  Possibly  not,"  he  finally  explained.  "  Perhaps 
I  ought  to  tell  you  that  the  church  is  to  be  darkened." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  man,  surprised  and  in- 
dignant, as  well  he  might  be,  "  so  we  are  not  even  to 
see  each  other  ?  In  that  case  I  had  better  send  her  my 
portrait.     She'll  be  wretched  without  it." 

After  further  thought  he  went  to  his  trunk,  took  out 
an  elegantly  mounted  photograph,  and  brought  it  to  the 
General. 

"  Thank  you,"  bowed  Hilton  ;  but  he  had  scarcely 
glanced  at  the  picture  when  he  added,  "  Excuse  me, 
there  is  some  mistake  here — this  is  another  person." 

"  It  will  do — for  her,"  was  the  reply.  "  It  is  the 
likeness  of  my  brother,  who  fell  at  Gettysburg.  She 
shall  have  mine  when  she  makes  peace  with  the  origi- 
nal." 

With  a  very  gentle  hand,  but  with  a  resolved  coun- 
tenance, the  General  laid  the  photograph  on  the  table. 

Underhill  took  up  a  pen  and  wrote  his  name  at  the 
bottom  of  the  card.  "  That  will  save  explanations  and 
prevarications,"  he  said.  "  You  can  simply  give  or  send 
it  to  her." 

"  Would  you  kindly  do  me  the  favor  to  transmit  it 
by  some  other  hand  ?  "  requested  the  South  Carolinian. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  answered  the  young  man,  coloring. 
"  I  really  beg  your  pardon.  I,  of  course,  had  no  right 
to  ask  you  to  play  a  part  in  my — my  bit  of  finessing." 

"  Pardon  me,  if  I  had  the  air  of  taking  offense," 
bowed  Hilton.  "  But  in  such  an  affair  a  man  had  better 
bear  his  own  responsibility.  Well,  it  is  all  settled,  I 
believe,"  he  added.  "  You  permit  me  to  say  so  to  Miss 
Beaufort?" 


116  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Underhill,  and  then  thanked  the  Gen- 
eral for  his  patience  and  courtesy  ;  for,  in  the  presence 
of  this  urbane  Southron,  he  also  became  elaborate  in 
manner  and  complimentary  in  speech. 

"  Colonel,  you  deserve  all  the  courtesy  that  I  or  any 
other  man  can  render,"  was  the  fervid  parting  utterance 
of  the  fast  friend  of  the  Beauforts. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

General  Hilton",  of  course,  carried  report  of  Un- 
derhill's  decision  to  Virginia  ;  but  we  will  not  relate 
the  particulars  of  the  remarkable  interview  which  en- 
sued ;  we  will  simply  state  that  the  engagement  became 
a  fact. 

This  point  once  established,  events  marched  rapidly. 
It  was  the  young  lady's  purpose  that  the  marriage 
should  be  kept  as  secret  as  possible  ;  and,  to  increase 
the  chance  of  securing  privacy,  she  fixed  an  early  day 
for  the  sacrificial  rites.  Meantime  she  remained  quietly 
in  Aunt  Chloe's  lodgings,  and  made  there  all  her  few 
and  mysterious  preparations.  She  had  money  enough 
at  command  to  do  otherwise,  and  even  magnificently 
otherwise.  Underhill  had  promptly  transmitted  to  her 
a  large  check,  signed  by  the  Mather  executors,  and  she 
might  have  taken  rooms  at  the  hotel,  or  rented  the 
grandest  house  in  Charleston,  both  of  which  plans  were 
suggested  to  her  at  random  moments  by  Mrs.  Dumont. 
But,  partly  through  whim,  and  partly  to  be  more  sure 
of  escaping  gossip  and  publicity,  she  continued  to  abide 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  117 

in  the  tattered  shanty,  and  scarcely  modified  her  humble 
style  of  living. 

All  this  while  the  amount  of  agitation  and  discussion 
in  the  little  household  was  something  indescribable. 
Notwithstanding  that  the  three  women  were  now  better 
fed  than  they  had  been  for  years,  they  positively  palpi- 
tated and  talked  the  flesh  off  their  bones.  Aunt  Chloe, 
in  particular,  went  nearly  wild,  prattled  incessantly  and 
with  continually  rising  vehemence,  and  was  specially 
copious  in  denouncing  the  manner  and  method  of  the 
marriage. 

"  It's  jess  like  a  weddin'  of  mad  folks,"  she  lectured. 
**  Married  w^ithout  co'ting  !  Never  heerd  the  like,  'cept 
among  slave  niggers  or  dumb  crittahs.  Wha's  d'  young 
man  all  dis  time  ?  Why  don  he  come  'long  ?  We  don 
's  much  's  se«  him  gwdne  by.  Wouldn'  know  him  from 
Adam  ef  'twant  fur  his  poetrait.  What's  dat,  Miss 
Ginny  ?  You  don  look  at  it  ?  Yis  you  has  looked  at 
it ;  you's  seen  it  onct,  anyway — got  up  las'  night  an' 
looked  at  it  by  moonlight.  I  seen  you  trew  de  cracks 
in  de  flo'.  You  jess  couldn'  go  to  sleep  without  one  peek. 
No,  I  ain't  shamed  to  lie  awake  spyin'  on  ye.  How  kin 
I  shet  an  eye,  Tvdth  all  dese  yere  crazy  doin's  ?  I's  a 
mos'  gone  loony  with  a  fearin'  you  should  back  out,  an' 
with  moumin'  an'  tremblin'  'bout  you  bein'  married  in 
black.  Ugh  !  black-crape  dress  !  All  de  Beaufort 
ladies  ever  I  heerd  of  stood  up  in  white  satin. — Miss 
Anna,  you  was  married  in  satin — powerful  satin — fit  to 
Stan'  alone  an'  be  married  all  by  itself." 

"We  don't  see  such  satin  nowadays,  Chloe,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Dumont,  warming  up  at  the  recollection 
of  her  bridal  glories. 

The  worthy  lady,  by-the-way,  was  much  improved 


118  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

in  appearance  since  we  last  saw  her,  and  had  such  a 
gloss  of  prosperity  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  imagine 
her  in  wedding-garments.  The  purchasing  power  of 
"  Yankee  dollars  "  revealed  itself  in  dainty  bootees,  a 
well-fitted  black-silk  dress,  and  a  becoming  little  cap  on 
her  now  carefully  brushed  hair.  In  her  expression  there 
was  that  wonderful  embellishment  and  refinement  which 
handsome  attire  and  a  consciousness  of  well-being  bring 
to  humanity,  and  especially  to  womanhood.  She  had 
lost  the  hard  and  hungry  glare  which  once  made  her 
eyes  pathetically  displeasing — that  glare  of  eagerness 
and  bitterness  which  caused  her  to  resemble  a  "  sand- 
hiller "  rather  than  a  Beaufort.  She  looked  a-  lady — 
decent,  even-tempered,  high-bred,  and  dignified — though 
not  intellectually  powerful. 

"  I  don'  keer  ef  we  don'  see  no  sech  satin  nowadays," 
grumbled  Aunt  Chloe.  "  You  could  git  somefin  white. 
Ugh  !  black-crape  dress  !  Jess  's  ef  you  was  gwine  to 
a  fu'nal !  " 

"  So  I  am,  aunty 5"  said  Virginia.  "  It's  only  a  fu- 
neral to  me." 

"  I  must  say  that  I  shouldn't  object  to  white,"  put 
in  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Black  will  look — well,  it  will  look 
ungrateful — I  mean  to  brother-in-law  Mather." 

"  So  I  am  ungrateful,"  declared  Virginia.  "  Am  I 
to  shine  out  in  thanks  for  this  bondage  ?  What  have  I 
to  be  grateful  for  ?  " 

"It  is  a  great  deal  of  money,  Virginia,"  said  the 
elder  lady,  eagerly  and  pleadingly,  as  though  she  still 
feared  lest  it  might  vanish.  "  We  shall  be  comfortable 
for  life." 

"Ah,  Aunt  Dumont,  you  have  been  bought  over," 
the  girl  laughed.     Then,  seeing  that  her  relative  looked 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  119 

annoyed,  she  added  :  "  Never  mind  what  I  say,  aunt.  I 
have  been  bought,  if  you  haven't." 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  of  it  so  lightly,"  mur- 
mured Mrs.  Dumont.  "After  all,  whether  we  are 
thankful  or  not,  it  is  a  wonderful  providence,  and  seems 
like  a  direct  interposition." 

She  spoke  in  a  low  and  as  it  were  awe-stricken  voice 
whenever  she  alluded  to  the  Mather  inheritance.  It 
seemed  as  if  she  remembered  the  tales  of  treasure-dig- 
gers who  have  seen  the  iron  chest  disappear  because 
some  one  uttered  a  loud  word. 

"Of  co'se  it's  a  providence,"  affirmed  Aunt  Chloe. 
"  An'  you  goes  to  meet  it  in  a  black  dress !  Dar 
was  a  man  in  Scripter  what  went  to  the  Lawd's  feast 
without  any  weddin'-garment,  an'  got  hisself  cast 
inter  outer  darkness  fur  his  impidence.  Da's  what'll 
happen  to  you.  Such  behavin'  's  shuah  to  bring  ill- 
luck." 

"  The  ill-luck  has  come,"  said  Virginia.  "  The  mar- 
riage is  the  ill-luck.     There  can't  be  any  worse." 

"  An'  de  bridesmaids  ? "  queried  the  old  woman. 
"  Is  dey  to  be  in  black,  too — like  mourners  ?  " 

"  There  won't  be  any  bridesmaids,  aunty ;  nor 
groomsmen,  either." 

"  No  bridesmaids  ?  An'  is  dis  yere  young  gen'leman 
to  Stan'  all  dese  cracker  'rangements  ?  I  'gin  to  b'lieve, 
fur  true,  d'  Yankees  has'n'  got  •  no  sperrit.  An'  no 
groomsmen,  nuther  ?  You  two  stan'  up  alone,  like  poo' 
white  folks  ?  Oh,  you  wait !  You'll  see  !  He'll  have 
groomsmen.  D'aint  no  rich  young  man  gwine  ter  be 
'posed  on  dat  ar  way.  He'll  fotch  on  his  own  grooms- 
men, an'  bridesmaids,  too — bawn  Yankees,  every  one  of 
'em — jess  to  punish  ye." 


120  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

"  Then  there  won't  be  any  bride,  not  if  I  have  my 
senses,"  declared  Virginia. 

"  "Well,  you  has'n'  got  'em,"  retorted  Aunt  Chloe. 
"  Dar  has'n'  been  no  sense  in  Sou'  Carliny  sence  d'  wah 
— no,  nor  fur  a  good  while  befo'  d'  wah.  De  bosses 
has  a  heap  sight  mo'  gumption  nor  de  folks.  Why  ! 
how's  you  gwine  ter  look,  stannin'  up  without  brides- 
maids, an'  towsled  with  black  crape  ? — What's  dat  you 
say  ?  No  lights  in  de  church  !  What !  married  in  the 
dark  ?  I  shall  jess  go  's  crazy  's  a  bawn  Beaufort. 
Married  in  the  dark  !  How's  you  to  know  which  is 
you'  husban'  ?  How's  he  to  know  which  is  you  ?  You'll 
jess  git  you'self  married  to  Gin'ral  Hilton,  an'  never  find 
it  out  till  you  sees  it  in  de  papahs." 

"Aunty,  I  think  I  could  stand  that  better,"  said 
Virginia,  half  laughing,  half  groaning. 

"  Why  !  you'  husban'  won't  see  you,"  pursued  the 
scandalized  Mauma — "won't  see  what  he  marries — 
black,  or  white,  or  yaller  gal.  Don'  you  mean  he  shall 
ever  see  you'  face  ?  What,  never  ?  !N'ot  in  all  you'  life  ? 
Ef  dat  young  man  puts  up  with  all  dese  yere  tomfool- 
eries, I'm  done  with  him.  I  mos'  dispises  him  now. 
Why  don'  he  behave  hisself  like  a  gen'leman  ?  Why  don' 
he  come  here,  an'  f  o'ce  hisself  in  ?    Who's  to  bender  ?  " 

"He  wouldn't  dare — he  has  no  right !"  exclaimed 
Virginia,  coloring  with  alarm  and  indignation  at  the 
mere  thought  of  such  an  intrusion. 

"  Right !  He'll  have  right  enough  when  d'  words 
is  said  an'  de  ring  is  on.  He  kin  fotch  along  de  police 
an'  break  in.    Reckon  he  will,  too  ;  anyway,  he  oughter." 

"  O  Chloe  ! "  murmured  the  girl,  her  fears  getting 
the  upper  hand  of  her  defiance.  "  You  scare  me  out  of 
my  wits." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  121 

"  Wish  I  could  skeer  you  inter  'em — wish  I  could 
now.     Hain't  been  in  'em  fur  fo'  yeahs." 

"  I  half  think  so  myself  when  I  remember  what  I 
am  doing,"  sighed  Virginia. 

"  An'  how  you's  a-doin'  it ! "  snapped  the  Mauma. 
"  Never  was  no  sech  loony  business  sence  Adam  an'  Eve 
ate  the  apple.  It's  wuss  'n  crazy.  It's  jess  like  a  wed- 
din'  in  de  bad  place — a  weddin'  'mongst  Satan's  angels 
an'  fallen  sperrits— all  blackness  an'  darkness  an'  hatred 
an'  lies.  Ef  d'  Ole  Boy  hisself  don'  come  to  'tend  it,  it's 
bekase  he's  acsumdentally  got  outside  o'  Sou'  Carliny." 

"  O  Chloe  !  "  screamed  the  churchly  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"  How  can  you  !  I  think  you  are  awfully  profane — and 
so  cruel  and  discouraging,  too  !  It  all  comes  of  freedom. 
You  didn't  talk  so  in  the  good,  quiet  old  times." 

"  Didn'  dast  to,  Miss  Anna  ;  wanted  to,  lots  o'  times 
— wanted  to  talk  wuss." 

Just  here  Mrs.  Dumont  observed  through  the  win- 
dow that  some  one  was  approaching  the  house,  and,  with 
the  indolent  dignity  of  a  person  accustomed  to  be  waited 
on,  directed  Chloe  to  see  who  it  might  be. 

"  Da's  d'  i'nin',"  explained  the  old  woman.  "  Da's 
d'  young  lady  what  fotches  d'  i'nin'." 

"  Young  lady  !  young  lady  that  fetches  the  ironing  ! 
What  are  we  coming  to  ?  "  gasped  Mrs.  Dumont,  with  an 
upward  roll  of  her  eyes. 

"  Dis  yere's  mighty  'spectable,  an'  a  powerful  fine 
singer,  too,  as  I  heern  tell,"  added  Chloe.  "  She  on'y 
fotches  when  her  mother's  out  o'  sawts,  like  Miss  Ginny 
useter  when  I  was  rheumatical." 

"  A  Beaufort  is  a  lady,  whatever  she  does,"  declared 
Mrs.  Dumont,  tartly.     "  I  really  don't  like  your  com- 
paring my  niece  with  a  common-born  Irish  girl." 
6 


122  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Thus  speaking,  the  rehabilitated  grandee  passed  into 
her  wretched  little  sleeping-closet  with  as  august  an  air 
as  if  it  were  a  withdrawing-rpom  of  lordly  dimensions 
and  furnishings. 

Mauma  Chloe  now  opened  the  door  and  courtesied  in 
Korah  Macmorran,  bearing  a  basket  of  fine  linen  dainti- 
ly starched  and  ruffled.  Virginia  glanced  at  the  mod- 
est and  pretty  girl  with  the  surprise  which  we  accord  to 
unexpected  refinement  of  expression  and  bearing,  and 
with  the  interest  which  one  handsome  young  woman 
usually  grants  to  another.  When  Norah  spoke,  too,  she 
turned  and  looked  at  her  with  something  like  admira- 
tion, so  delicious  was  the  voice  and  so  neat  was  the  ut- 
terance. 

"The  heavy  pieces  will  be  done  to-morrow,"  ex- 
plained Norah.  "  I  brought  the  small  things  because 
mother  said  you  wanted  them  directly." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  returned  Vir- 
ginia, with  an  instinctive  civility  which  did  her  honor. 
"  Please  sit  down  while  I  look  them  over." 

In  another  instant  she  had  forgotten  Norah  in  her 
finery.  She  picked  up  the  basket,  hurried  with  it  into 
the  sleeping-room,  closed  the  door  behind  her  with  a 
push  of  her  foot,  and  proceeded  to  take  out  the  rustling 
delicacies  of  raiment.  The  lowly  bed  was  soon  covered 
with  glossy  cuffs  and  collars,  snowy  handkerchiefs,  and 
other  fine  linen.  The  two  ladies  bent  over  them  and 
fingered  them  and  counted  them  with  a  joy  which  was 
almost  great  enough  for  tears.  It  was  a  long  time  since 
they  had  been  able  to  look  upon  such  a  pageant  as  their 
own. 

Meanwhile  Aunt  Chloe,  left  alone  with  N^orah,  seat- 
ed her  in  the  arm-chair  and  began  to  babble.     "  You's 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  123 

just  in  time,  miss,"  she  chuckled.     "  Things  is  mighty 
pressin'." 

"  So  I  understood,"  was  the  tranquil  reply. 

"  Oh  !  then  you  heern  of  it  ?  "  stared  and  smirked 
Aunt  Chloe. 

"My  mother  told  me,"  said  Norah,  meaning  simply 
that  her  mother  had  told  her  that  the  washing  was 
needed  promptly. 

"  Laws  !  so  it's  all  out,"  giggled  the  old  woman,  de- 
lighted that  the  fact  should-  be  so,  since  it  left  her  free 
to  talk.  "  Yis,  Miss  Ginny's  been  spoke  for,"  she  went 
on.     "  Wonder  ef  you  knows  de  young  gen'leman  ?  " 

"I  suppose  not,"  answered  Norah,  with  her  sweet 
smile,  for  the  subject  of  nuptials  interested  her  pleas- 
antly, as  it  does  many  young  women.  It  was  surely  a 
pathetic  speech,  when  one  remembers  how  well  she  did 
know  him,  and  what  scenes  had  passed  between  him 
and  her.  "But  you  misunderstood  me,"  she  added, 
quickly.     "  I  didn't  mean  to  say — " 

"Perhaps  you  knows  him,"  interrupted  Chloe,  alto- 
gether heedless  of  Norah's  explanation,  so  eager  was 
she  to  learn  something  about  the  mysterious  groom. 
"He's  from  the  Nawth,  whar  you  comes  from.  His 
name  is  Underhill,  an'  he's  a  Yankee  colonel." 

The  girl  quivered  a  little,  like  one  who  has  been 
stabbed  mortally,  and  who  can  only  quiver.  Her  lips 
parted  slightly,  but  did  not  give  forth  a  word,  not  even 
a  sigh.     Her  eyes  dropped  to  the  floor. 

"  So  you  don'  know  him  ?  "  queried  Aunt  Chloe,  dis- 
appointed. Then,  staring  vaguely  at  ISTorah,  she  noted 
that  her  face  had  turned  very  white,  and  broke  out  with 
"  Law  sakes  !    wha's  de  mattah  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  murmured  the  girl  ;  but  she  was  clutch- 


124:  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

ing  the  arms  of  her  chair,  and  seeraed  to  be  struggling 
against  faintness. 

"  Why,  you  looks  dead  sick,"  insisted  the  Mauma, 
and  began  to  call  aloud,  "  Miss  Ginny  !  Miss  Ginny  !  " 

"  Oh,  please  don't  call  her  !  "  gasped  Korah.  "  Have 
you  got  any  water  ?  " 

But  Virginia  had  already  entered  the  room  and  di- 
vined the  situation,  at  least  so  far  as  concerned  the  fact 
of  faintness.  She  hastily  filled  a  tumbler  with  water 
and  brought  it  to  the  invalid. 

Norah  drank  eagerly,  without  raising  her  eyes,  and 
then  whispered  :  "  Thank  you.  It  is  nothing.  I  have 
such  turns  sometimes.     I  haven't  been  well  lately." 

"  Let  me  help  you  into  the  other  room,"  said  Virgin- 
ia.    "You  must  lie  down  a  minute." 

Norah  merely  shook  her  head  and  tried  to  smile. 
After  a  moment  of  waiting  and  silence,  compressing  her 
lips  for  a  desperate  effort,  she  grasped  the  arms  of  the 
chair  and  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Take  care  !  "  exclaimed  Virginia,  catching  hold  of 
her  arm  to  steady  her.  "  Don't  go  yet  ;  you  might  fall 
in  the  street." 

For  the  first  time  since  the  revelation  of  the  engage- 
ment the  girl  glanced  at  her.  It  was  a  quick,  furtive, 
strange  look  ;  it  seemed  to  express  fear,  humiliation, 
and  resignation  ;  it  was  a  look  which  the  other  probably 
never  forgot. 

"I  must  go,"  she  murmured.  "I  am  quite  able. 
Thank  you." 

Next,  without  lifting  her  eyes  again  upon  any  of 
them,  she  seized  her  basket,  opened  the  door  hurriedly, 
and  passed  out. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ? "  demanded  Mrs.  Du- 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  125 

mont,  appearing  from  the  sleeping-closet.  "  What's 
that  girl  fainting  about  ?  " 

Then,  little  by  little,  the  whole  story  came  out — 
how  Aunt  Chloe  had  blunderingly  given  up  the  secret 
of  the  engagement,  and  how  thereupon  the  girl  had 
come  nigh  to  swooning.  It  was  obvious  that  all  three 
of  the  women  suspected  a  love-affair  between  Norah 
and  Underhill. 

"Reckon  she  ain't  strong-like,"  urged  the  subdued 
and  alarmed  Mauma.  "  Some  women  has  watery  blood, 
and  turns  white  fur  nothin'  at  all." 

"  It  is  not  worth  minding,"  asserted  Mrs.  Dumont, 
glancing  with  anxious  eyes  at  her  frowning  niece.  "  The 
world  is  full  of  cases  of  misplaced  affection.  Those 
commonplace  girls,  I  suppose,  are  always  reading  trashy 
novels,  and  dreaming  about  impossible  marriages.  Or, 
it  may  be  as  Chloe  says — some  girls  are  for  ever  faint- 
ing. My  opinion  is,  that  it  comes  from  an  irregular  cir- 
culation." 

At  last  Virginia  spoke.  "  I  suppose  he  has  trifled 
with  her,"  she  said,  sullenly.  "  I  think  he  is  a  bad, 
cruel  man.  "Well,  it  is  what  I  expected.  They  are  a 
mean  race." 

"  My  dear,  I  really  hope  you  will  do  nothing  rash," 
implored  the  aunt,  fairly  trembling  with  terror  lest  the 
marvelously  found  treasure  should  vanish  away. 

"  'Sposin'  he  has  behaved  bad,"  put  in  Aunt  Chloe, 
who  had  recovered  somewhat  of  her  spirit,  "  what's  his 
behavin'  to  you,  ef  you  ain't  gwine  ter  live  with  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  shall  go  on,"  returned  the  girl,  with  a  groan 
of  mingled  aversion  and  despair.  "  Nothing  can  make 
it  worse  than  it  is  in  itself.  I  shall  marry  him  now,  no 
matter  what  I  hear." 


126  TEE  BLOODY  CSASM. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

It  is  not  worth  while  to  relate  minutely  how  Under- 
hill  passed  the  time  of  his  brief  engagement,  nor  to  make 
full  record  of  the  emotions  and  thoughts  with  which  he 
approached  his  very  extraordinary  marriage. 

All  that — the  perpetual  remembrance  of  the  fact ; 
the  constantly  varying  dispositions  with  regard  to  it ; 
the  querying  whether  Miss  Beaufort  would  hold  her 
strange  purpose  to  the  end  ;  the  occasional  wrath  at  re- 
ceiving from  her  no  kindly  message,  or  notice  of  any 
kind  ;  the  petulant  resolves  to  see  the  thing  through, 
since  it  had  been  begun  ;  the  desperate  glances  ahead  at 
the  oddest  of  all  fashions  of  blighted  lives  ;  the  fre- 
quent temptations  toward  a  breaking  loose  from  the  un- 
natural arrangement  ;  the  enforced  meditations  upon 
motives  of  pity  and  honor  and  plighted  troth  ;  the 
periods  of  romantic  expectation,  and  of  easy  confidence, 
and  of  total  indifference — all  that  we  will  leave  to 
sympathetic  imaginations,  and  will  come  at  once  to  the 
evening  of  the  wedding. 

An  hour  or  so  previous  to  the  moment  fixed  for  the 
ceremony,  TJnderhill  came  out  of  the  Charleston  Hotel, 
and  set  off  alone  down  Meeting  Street.  At  first  he 
walked  rapidly,  as  if  he  had  a  well-defined  object  in 
view  ;  but  of  a  sudden  he  halted,  folded  his  arms,  and 
stared  vacantly  at  the  pavement.  A  ragged  negro  ap- 
proached, took  off  his  tatter  of  a  cap  with  a  scrape,  and 
asked:  "Does  you  want  anythin'.  Boss  ?  I'se  an  er- 
ran'-boy,  I  is." 

"Yes,"  said  TJnderhill,  surlily  ;  "I  want  to  be  let 
alone."     Then,  glancing  at  the  fellow's  poverty-stricken 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  127 

raiment,  he  threw  him  a  wad  of  the  currency  of  those 
days,  and  added,  "  Clear  out  !  " 

"  Wah,  wah,  wah  !  tankee.  Boss,"  guffawed  the  negro, 
and  made  his  exit  with  another  resounding  "  Wah,  wah, 
wah  !  » 

The  laughter  was  not  unlike  the  "  Ho  !  ho  !  "  of  Meph- 
istopheles,  and  probably  reminded  Underhill  of  that 
diabolical  merriment. 

"  Confound  the  black  imp  !  "  he  muttered  ;  and  his 
face  became  more  sullen  than  before.  He  looked  at  his 
watch,  pushed  on  hastily  down  the  street,  and  came  to 
another  abrupt  halt.  This  time  he  aroused  the  curiosity 
of  a  policeman  who  was  standing  in  the  shadow  of 
a  neighboring  building.  The  official  watched  him  a 
moment,  edged  forward  with  a  noiseless  step,  and 
remarked,  "  Foine  evenin',  surr." 

Underhill  started,  turned  upon  the  man,  stared  at 
him  impatiently,  and  yawned  :  "  Oh — yes — fine  even- 
ing." 

"  Lost  yer  way,  surr  ?  "  inquired  the  guardian  of  the 
public  tranquillity. 

"  No,"  returned  Underhill,  sharply.  He  was  moving 
on,  but  after  one  or  two  steps  he  stopped  and  said, 
"  Officer,  how  deep  is  the  water  off  the  Battery  ?  " 

The  star  reflected  with  an  air  of  perplexity,  which 
was  followed  by  a  gleam  of  wariness.  It  is  probable 
that  the  suspicion  came  into  his  head  that  here  was  a 
fellow,  impudent  enough  or  mad  enough  to  try  to  learn 
from  a  member  of  the  force  where  he  might  convenient- 
ly drown  himself.  Of  course,  the  notion  was  an  im- 
probable one  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  there  were  cases 
of  policemen  who  had  been  humbugged  by  frankness 
and  straightforwardness  ;  and  it  was  highly  desirable 


128  TEE   BLOODY  CHASM. 

not  to  get  a  repute  at  the  office  for  being  a  simpleton. 
At  last  he  replied  with  thoughtful  deliberation,  "  Well, 
surr,  I  couldn't  say  for  sure,  the  tide  is  out  just  now — 
it's  three  feet  or  so,  mebbe  less." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  shallow  as  that  ?  "  was  the  sulky  com- 
ment. 

"  I  might  walk  along  wid  ye,  an'  we  might  have  a 
look,"  suggested  the  official.  "My  bate's  down  that 
way." 

"  Oh,  no  !  don't  want  to  go  there,"  answered  Under- 
bill. He  faced  about,  as  if  to  return  whence  he  came, 
but  did  not  stir.  ^'^By-the-way,  officer,"  he  added, 
"  can  you  tell  me  when  the  next  train  leaves  town  ?  " 

"  There's  niver  a  train  out  till  six  of  the  mornin', 


surr." 


"  Oh,  indeed  !  "  said  the  young  man,  yawning  with 
an  air  of  complete  indifference.  "Thank  you,  officer. 
Good-night." 

He  now  set  off  swiftly,  neither  toward  the  Battery 
nor  toward  the  hotel,  but  across  Meeting  Street  and  in 
the  direction  of  the  Ashley  River.  The  policeman 
watched  him  for  a  minute,  and  then  started  in  pursuit. 
He  did  not  follow  far  in  a  direct  line,  but  turned  to  the 
left  down  the  first  alley,  and  there  broke  into  a  double, 
as  if  to  wheel  around  a  block  and  head  off  his  quarry. 

Underhill  walked  at  full  speed  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  and  came  to  a  halt  before  a  small,  isolated  dwell- 
ing, evidently  the  residence  of  people  in  humble  life. 
There  was  a  small,  bare,  well-trampled  yard  in  front  of 
it,  inclosed  by  a  dilapidated  wooden  fence.  At  one  end 
this  fence  was  flanked  by  a  shapeless  thicket  of  under- 
growth, quite  characteristic  of  the  half -depopulated  and 
ill-cared-for  little  city.      At  the  other  end  stood  the 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  129 

corner  building  of  the  block,  apparently  a  deserted 
grocery — ^no  light  in  its  windows,  and  no  revelry  at  its 
counters.  Underbill  posted  himself  in  the  shadow  of 
the  thicket,  and  quietly  watched  the  silent  dwelling- 
house.  He  had  been  there  several  minutes  when  a  fe- 
male figure  came  around  the  corner  beyond  and  ad- 
vanced rapidly  toward  the  gate.  He  stepped  forward, 
reached  the  gate  first,  seized  it  with  one  hand,  and  said 
in  a  low,  tremulous  voice,  "  Miss  Macmorran  !  " 

"  Sir  ?  "  was  the  reply.  It  was  partly  a  query,  and 
partly  a  remonstrance,  or  rather  a  reproof.  The  tone 
was  very  gentle,  but  also  very  grave. 

"  Only  a  moment !  "  he  begged.  *'  Just  one  word, 
Miss  Macmorran ! " 

"  I  can  not  talk  with  you,  sir,"  answered  Norah,  her 
utterance  suddenly  dropping  to  a  gasp. 

"  Only  a  word  of  good-by.     How  hard  you  are  with 

me ! " 

"  I  have  no  right  to  be  anything  else,"  murmured 
Norah,  bringing  out  the  words  one  by  one  and  with 
'  great  difficulty. 

"You  might  have  had  the  right."  He  could  not 
help  saying  it,  no  matter  whether  it  was  true  or  false. 
"  Do  listen  to  me.     You  might  have  had  the  right." 

"  Oh,  please  let  me  pass  !  "  whispered  Norah,  strug- 
gling in  vain  to  speak  aloud. 

"  In  a  moment,"  he  answered,  still  holding  the  gate. 
"  Can't  you  hear  a  word  from  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  is  the  use — now  ?  Bid  me  good-by,  and 
let  me  go  in." 

"  Ah,  Norah  !  That  is  just  what  I  don't  want  to 
do.     I  don't  want  to  bid  you  good-by." 

Something   or   other,  perhaps   an  impulse   of   con- 


130  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

science,  perhaps  a  throb  of  indignation,  restored  her 
voice  to  her  for  a  moment.  "  You  have  no  claim,  Mr. 
Underhill,  to  talk  to  me  in  this  way,"  she  said  aloud. 
Then,  breaking  down  into  a  sob,  she  added,  "  It  is  very- 
cruel." 

"  Ah,  forgive  me  !  forgive  me  !  "  he  pleaded,  lean- 
ing toward  her  and  whispering  with  the  tenderness  of 
penitence.  "  I  don't  mean  to  be  cruel — not  to  you.  I  am 
suffering  enough  myself.    How  can  I  want  to  be  cruel  ?  " 

"  You  ! — suffering  ?  "  was  the  amazed  and  incredu- 
lous reply. 

"  Yes,"  he  insisted.  "  It  is  your  fault.  Why  have 
you  always  kept  me  at  a  distance  ?     Why  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you.     I  mustn't  talk  with  you." 

"  Tell  me  !  "  he  implored,  or  rather  commanded.  "  I 
insist  upon  it.  Did  you  think  I  could  never  seriously 
care  for  you  ?  " 

She  broke  into  outright  crying  here,  but  was  able  to 
sob  forth,  "Yes,  sir,  I — did." 

"But  you  wouldn't  let  me  be  near  you.  You 
wouldn't  give  me  a  chance  to  speak.  Why  was  it  ? 
Did  you  hate  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  if  in  horror  at  the  thought. 
"  Xo,  sir  !  " 

"  Was  it  the  difference  of  Catholic  and  Protestant  ?  " 
he  asked,  gently.  As  she  made  no  reply,  he  continued, 
"  Was  it — other  differences  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Norah,  with  the  simplicity  and 
pathos  of  a  weeping  child.  "  I  didn't  think  you  could 
honestly  care  for  a  poor  girl  like  me." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  give  me  a  chance — not  a  chance 
to  talk  with  you — not  a  chance  to  hear  you  sing,  even, 
by  myself." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  131 

"  It  was  best  for  you  I  sliouldn't."  She  had  got 
upon  the  subject  of  duty  now,  and  could  speak  more 
firmly  and  clearly.  *'  Don't  you  know  it  was  ?  Oh,  I 
know  it,  and  knew  it  then.     It  was  told  to  me." 

"  What !  "  stared  Underhill.  "  Did  my  uncle  write 
to  you  ?  "  he  demanded,  wrathful  for  a  moment  with 
the  dead. 

Norah  hesitated.  "  It  was  told  to  me,"  she  repeated. 
"  I  knew  he  would  cut  you  off  if  you  took  a  Catholic. 
Isn't  that  in  his  will  ?  Ah,  I  know  it  is,  Mr.  Underhill, 
or  you  would  answer.  That  is  all,"  she  added,  endeav- 
oring to  pass  him.     "  Now  please  let  me  go." 

*'  Oh,  you  little  angel,  I  can't !  "  he  answered,  still 
holding  the  gate  firmly.  "  How  good  and  sweet  of  you 
to  think  of  me  !  " 

He  was  trying  to  take  her  hand,  but  this  seemed  to 
startle  her,  and  she  drew  back  sharply.  "Sir,  you 
must  wo^,"  she  protested  with  really  touching  solem- 
nity. "  And  you  should  not  be  here,  either,"  she  con- 
tinued, still  more  gravely.  "  Why  are  you  not  with 
her?'' 

"  So  you  know  that  ?  "  he  fretted.  "  ISTorah,  I  am 
perfectly  miserable.  You  must  help  me — help  me  to 
break  out  of  this  situation." 

"  What !  Out  of  your  marriage-troth  ?  Oh,  sir,  it 
would  be  such  a  sin  ! " 

"It  would  be  mine — all  mine,"  he  urged,  seizing  her 
hand  and  holding  it.  "I  won't  let  you  go  till  you 
promise  yourself  to  me.  I  must  break  away  from  this 
horrible  marriage,  and  you  must  help  me." 

"  O  Virgin  Mother,  aid  me  !  "  whispered  Norah. 
She  made  a  violent  effort  and  released  herself  from  his 
grasp.     "  Now  let  me  go,"  she  implored,  sobbing  once 


132  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

more.      "  May  God  help  you  !      But  you  never  shall 
touch  my  hand  again.     Let  me  pass." 

"  Give  me  one  good-by  kiss,  Norah,"  he  begged. 

"I  must  not,"  she  answered.    "It  would  be  wrong." 

He  still  held  the  gate  and  gazed  at  her  eagerly.  He 
was  quite  beside  himself  now  with  longing  for  this  girl. 
He  had  come  hither  in  obedience  to  that  impulse  which 
leads  a  man,  on  the  brink  of  a  distasteful  marriage,  to 
grasp  at  the  temporary  consolation  of  a  tender  parting 
from  some  one  else.  But  this  passionate  dialogue  had 
made  him  a  lover,  and  he  was  really  prepared  to  rush 
into  a  hasty  and  ill-assorted  marriage,  not  merely  be- 
cause he  abhorred  his  unnatural  engagement,  but  also 
because  he  was  infatuated  with  the  nun-like  creature  at 
his  side.  If  he  could  not  have  her  for  life,  he  must  at 
least  hold  her  a  moment  in  his  arms,  and  win  from  her  a 
farewell  embrace.  This  he  now  strove  to  do,  putting 
forth  his  right  hand  as  she  pressed  against  the  gate,  and 
passing  it  around  her  waist.  Norah  uttered  a  stifled 
cry  and  swiftly  turned  away  her  head,  so  that  his  kiss 
only  touched  a  ripple  of  her  black  hair. 

"  O  Holy  Virgin,  forgive  me  !  "  she  exclaimed,  and, 
breaking  the  gate  from  his  grasp,  fled  into  the  house. 

At  the  same  moment  a  policeman  appeared,  advan- 
cing on  a  run  from  the  neighboring  corner,  and  calling 
angrily  :  "  Let  that  girl  alone  !  Keep  away  from  that 
house  ! " 

Underbill  turned,  recognized  his  companion  of  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  previous,  and  responded  in  a  rage, 
"  What  have  you  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Can't  you  see  my  shield  ?  "  demanded  the  official, 
who  was  clearly  in  a  furious  passion,  and  hardly  able  to 
refrain  from  violence. 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  133 

"  When  a  man  is  talking  to  a  young  lady,  what  has 
the  police  to  do  with  it?"  reiterated  the  exasperated 
Colonel,  advancing  upon  the  policeman  with  that  air  of 
domination  which  is  apt  to  come  to  a  man  with  years 
of  martial  life. 

"I'll  tell  ye,  surr,"  returned  the  other,  lowering  his 
tone  to  a  surly  growl.  "  Me  name  is  John  Macmorran, 
an'  that  young  lady  is  me  sister." 

Underhill  seemed  thunderstruck  ;  for  some  seconds 
he  remained  speechless  ;  at  last  he  muttered  :  "  Good 
Heavens  !     This  is  too  much." 

"That's  what  I  say  meself,"  responded  Macmorran. 
"  I  hope  I  sha'n't  have  to  take  ye  in  charge,  surr." 

The  miserable  young  gentleman  burst  into  a  wretch- 
ed laugh.  "  Oh,  no,"  he  said.  "  If  she  has  a  brother 
on  the  force,  that  answers  every  purpose." 

Then,  while  Macmorran  entered  his  mother's  house, 
to  inquire  doubtless  into  the  meaning  of  this  extraordi- 
nary scene,  our  modern  Bayard,  the  chivalrous  hero  of 
the  age,  turned  his  back  and  sauntered  slowly  home- 
ward. 


CHAPTER   XYII. 

Reaching  Meeting  Street,  Underhill  discovered  Gen- 
eral Hilton,  standing  under  one  of  the  lamp-posts  in 
front  of  the  market,  and  peering  anxiously  in  all  direc- 
tions. He  crossed  over,  walked  straight  up  to  him,  and 
said  in  a  tranquil  tone,  which  contrasted  singularly  with 
his  late  agitation,  "  General,  I  suppose  you  are  looking 
for  me." 


134:  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  My  dear  Colonel,  I  am  very  glad  to  find  you,"  re- 
turned Hilton,  not  forgetting  to  shake  hands  cordially. 
"  They  couldn't  tell  me  at  the  hotel  where  you  were." 

"  I  felt  too  gay  and  festive  to  stay  there,"  was  the 
sardonic  answer.     "  I  wanted  to  get  out  and  frolic  !  " 

"  What  time  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  General.  "  I  don't 
carry  a  watch  in  these  days." 

Underhill  drew  forth  a  magnificent  repeater.  "  We 
have  ten  minutes — plenty  of  time  to  get  there,"  he  said. 
*'  General,  let  me  ask  you  to  accept  this,  in  token  of  my 
profound  respect,  and  also  of  my  regrets  for  having 
caused  you  anxiety.  I  ought  to  have  been  at  the  hotel, 
if  only  on  your  account." 

Hilton  gently  begged  leave  to  decline  the  gift. 
"  Not  now,  at  any  rate,"  he  smiled.  "  If  this  marriage 
turns  out  well,  as  I  profoundly  believe  it  will,  then  you 
shall  give  me  that  watch,  and  your  thanks  with  it." 

"  May  the  hour  come  !  "  responded  the  young  man, 
with  a  sigh  of  hopelessness.  *'  Well,"  he  added,  pass- 
ing his  arm  through  Hilton's,  "  I  am  all  ready — as  ready 
as  I  can  be.     Let  us  go  to  the  place  of  execution." 

"  Ah,  Colonel !  "  the  General  sighed  also,  as  they  set 
forward,  taking  the  direction  of  Grace  Church. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Underhill.  "  This  isn't  talking 
like  a  Bayard,  is  it  ?  Well,  I  have  found — I  have  just 
now  clearly  discovered — that  I  am  not  a  Bayard.  I  have 
been  behaving,  during  this  last  mauvais  quart  dlieure^ 
like  a  perfect  blackguard." 

"  I  can't  credit  it.  Colonel.  You  couldn't  behave  like 
one  for  fifteen  minutes  together,  if  for  one." 

"  I  don't  believe.  General,  that  you  have  ever  known 
what  it  is  to  be  driven  to  desperation." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  this  is  the  dark  hour  before  the 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  135 

dawn,"  said  Hilton.  "  I  can  remember  enough  of  youth- 
ful feelings  to  comprehend  that  it  must  seem  very  som- 
ber. I  remember,  also,  hours  in  which  I  have  myself 
been  very  desperate.  Never  mind.  A  gentleman  does 
his  devoir  all  the  same." 

"  Noblesse  oblige — a  gentleman  must,"  repeated  Un- 
derhill.  Then  he  added  wdth  a  smile,  "  So  you  can  say 
that  to  a  Yankee  ?  " 

"  To  any  brother  soldier — to  any  good  soldier — Yan- 
kee or  Southern — I  can  say  that." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  I  w^sh  it  was  war  again,"  broke 
out  the  Colonel.  "  I  wish  there  was  somebody  to  fight 
— instead  of  this." 

"  There  is  no  one,"  Hilton  answered,  gravely.  "  Miss 
Beaufort  hasn't  a  male  relative  left."  It  was  character- 
istic of  the  Southron  that  he  should  think  at  once  of  the 
duel,  and  suppose  that  his  interlocutor  had  alluded  to 
that  method  of  settling  fastidious  questions. 

"  Ah,  if  she  had  !  "  groaned  Harry,  coming  to  a  halt. 
"  I  should  rather  like  to  be  shot." 

"  But  you  can't  be.  Colonel — unless  you  shoot  your- 
self," responded  Hilton,  halting  also,  and  watching  him 
anxiously. 

Underhill  looked  up  in  his  face  with  the  smile  of  a 
man  who  assents  to  an  overwhelming  argument.  "  No," 
he  said,  "  I  must  be  married,  instead  of  buried.  Parole 
iVhonneur!  I  remember  now  that  I  gave  it.  I  forgot 
it  once  this  evening." 

"  Yes — word  of  honor  !  "  murmured  Hilton  in  a  rev- 
erent tone.     "  Word  of  an  officer  and  gentleman  !  " 

"  So  be  it,"  sighed  Underhill,  resuming  his  course. 
"  Lead  on  to  my  nuptials,"  he  added  with  a  miserable 
laugh.     "  Vive  lajoie  !  " 


136  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

They  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  church  in  time  to 
see  a  group  of  three  or  four  dark  figures  turn  into  the 
side-alley  which  led  up  to  the  vestry-door. 

"  Walking  !  "  commented  the  opulent  young  gentle- 
man, with  an  air  of  surprise.  "  Why  didn't  my  wife 
drive  ?  " 

"She  wished  to  escape  notice,"  muttered  Hilton. 
"  She'll  regret  it  some  day,  and  regret  all  this.  I  don't 
believe  a  girl  ever  had  a  queer  or  private  wedding 
without  feeling  more  or  less  sore  about  it  all  her 
life." 

Then  they  also  reached  the  alley,  pushed  up  it  to  the 
vestry-door,  and  stumbled  into  the  shadowy  church, 
dimly  conscious  of  massive  pillars  and  pointed  arches, 
the  latter  being  guessed  rather  than  discerned.  Two 
wax-candles  in  front  of  the  altar  faintly  lighted  a  group 
which  was  huddled  in  the  center  of  the  transept.  The 
clergyman,  a  middle-aged  gentleman  of  mild  expres- 
sion and  thin,  patrician  features,  was  listening  to  the 
whisperings  of  a  portly  and  elderly  lady,  dressed  in 
mourning.  By  the  side  of  this  last  stood  another  female 
figure,  tall  and  slender  and  evidently  youthful,  although 
her  hair  was  hidden  by  a  black  veil  and  her  face  was 
turned  away. 

Underbill  gripped  his  companion's  arm,  and  brought 
him  to  a  halt.  *'  Which  is  Miss  Beaufort  ?  "  he  whis- 
pered. 

"  The  youngest  lady — the  slender  one — the  crape 
veil." 

And  the  large  one,  I  suppose,  is  her  aunt  ?  " 
No.     At  the  last  moment  Mrs.  Dumont's  courage 
failed  her.    She  called  it  a  funeral.    A  woman,  you  know 
— sensitive  and  imaginative — perhaps  superstitious — she 


li 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  137 

refused  to  see  it.  The  large  lady  is  a  Mrs.  Chester,  a 
distant  connection." 

"  Are  there  witnesses  enough  ?  Have  all  the  legali- 
ties been  seen  to  ?  It  would  be  awkward  for  the  lady, 
if  not." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,"  said  Hilton,  evi- 
dently much  gratified  by  this  sign  of  good-will.  "  Ev- 
erything has  been  arranged." 

The  clergyman  now  came  toward  them  with  a  soft 
and  urbane  solemnity.  The  General  introduced  his 
companion  in  full,  as  Mr.  Henry  Edwards  Underbill,  of 
Boston,  the  affianced  of  Miss  Virginia  Temple  Beau- 
fort. There  was  a  slight  touching  of  hands,  a  faint 
murmuring  of  a  civil  phrase  or  two,  and  then  a  brief, 
oppressive  silence.  Underbill  turned  his  head,  and 
glanced  at  the  dimly  visible  figure  in  the  crape  veil. 
The  face  was  still  averted  from  him. 

"  All  is  ready,"  whispered  the  clergyman,  and  glided 
back  to  his  place  of  office.  Hilton  took  Underbill's 
arm,  and  they  walked  together  down  the  transept  to 
join  the  group  in  front  of  the  altar.  The  slight  grating 
of  their  feet  on  the  bare  and  apparently  sanded  floor 
was  the  only  sound  in  the  shadowy  edifice.  The  mo- 
ment they  baited  there  was  a  complete  and  lugubrious 
silence.  A  moment  later  there  was  a  sharp  sigh  ;  it 
was  only  the  struggling,  gasping  breath  of  a  woman  ; 
but  it  could  be  heard  with  painful  distinctness. 

Underbill  was  now  by  the  side  of  his  bride,  some 
three  or  four  feet  distant  from  her,  and  fronting  the 
clergyman.  [Not  until  he  had  thus  placed  himself  did 
she  turn  in  the  same  direction.  He  glanced — he  prob- 
ably could  not  help  glancing — toward  the  woman  who 
uttered  that  sigh.     Then  he  discovered  that  her  face 


138  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

was  shielded  by  her  veil,  so  that  he  could  not  distin- 
guish a  single  feature.  Looking  at  her  sidewise,  she 
was  a  mass  of  funereal  black,  from  her  feet  to  her  fore- 
head. Her  pose  was  that  of  a  statue.  Not  once,  not 
even  in  the  slightest  degree,  did  she  turn  her  head 
toward  the  man  whom  she  was  about  to  marry.  It  was 
evident  that  she  did  not  mean  to  see  him,  any  more 
than  to  be  seen  by  him. 

The  service  commenced.  The  clergyman  knew  his 
task  by  heart,  and  it  was  well  that  he  did  so  know  it, 
for  the  feebleness  of  the  light  forbade  reading.  Vir- 
ginia made  her  responses  in  a  low,  monotonous,  mechan- 
ical tone,  without  a  tremor  or  any  other  sign  of  emotion. 
TJnderhill  spoke  in  such  a  suppressed  and  unnatural 
mutter  that  Hilton  stared  at  him  with  an  air  of  surprise, 
and  bent  forward  as  if  to  see  whether  he  were  the  right 
man.  Indeed,  ever  since  the  General  had  entered  the 
church,  he  had  worn  an  expression  of  perplexity,  and 
had  stared  hard  and  repeatedly  at  the  bridegroom. 

The  service  ended.  The  marriage-vows  had  been 
really  and  fully  uttered  and  interchanged.  Henry  Ed- 
wards Underhill  and  Virginia  Temple  Beaufort  were 
lawfully  man  and  wife.  That  moment  they  separated. 
In  obedience  to  a  touch  of  Hilton's  hand,  the  husband 
fell  back  two  paces  and  stood  motionless.  The  wife, 
drawing  her  veil  entirely  over  her  face,  turned  to  the 
right,  walked  hastily  by  him,  and,  accompanied  by  her 
three  friends,  swept  along  the  transept  toward  the  ves- 
try exit.  Then,  at  a  little  distance,  the  two  men  slowly 
followed,  and  groped  their  way  out  of  the  shadowy  edi- 
fice. The  door  was  softly  closed  behind  them  by  an 
invisible  hand,  giving  a  lugubrious  impression  of  the 
presence  of  some  ghostly  verger.     Underhill  halted  in 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  139 

the  moonlight,  folded  his  arms,  drew  a  long  sigh,  and 
waited  for  his  bride  to  pass  out  of  sight.  Meantime 
the  General  gazed  at  him  with  an  air  of  scrutiny  and 
bewilderment. 

"  My  dear  Colonel,  when  did  you  raise  those  ? "  he 
said,  at  last,  pointing  with  his  finger  to  the  young  man's 
cheek.    "  I  never  noticed  before  that  you  had  whiskers." 

Underbill  uttered  a  low  laugh — not  quite  a  pleasant 
one  to  hear — rather  a  sardonic  merriment.  "  Oh,  it  was 
a  miracle,"  he  said. '  "  This  has  been  a  supernatural  af- 
fair throughout.  I  raised  them  as  we  stepped  into  the 
church." 

He  lifted  his  hat,  took  off  a  j^air  of  false  whiskers, 
and  put  them  in  his  pocket. 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  that  it  is  yourself,"  returned 
Hilton.  "  I  positively  had  my  doubts,  in  there.  I 
wouldn't  have  believed  that  such  a  small  thing  could 
so  change  a  face.  You  had  your  reasons,  doubtless,  for 
the  disguise." 

"  Of  course.  I  had  sent  her  my  brother's  picture 
as  mine,  you  remember.  It  was  necessary  to  look  like 
him,  or  she  might  have  been  puzzled,  and  might  have 
refused  to  go  on.  I  had  these  got  up  some  days  ago. 
I  came  near  forgetting  them  this  evening,  and  only  put 
them  on  as  we  entered  the  church." 

He  took  the  whiskers  out  of  his  pocket,  waved  them 
in  the  moonlight,  and  laughed  again.  "  It  was  my  only 
preparation  for  the  wedding,"  he  said.  "  Very  appro- 
priate !     Sham  marriage  and  sham  whiskers  !  " 

"  Ah  !  Colonel,  this  bitterness  will  pass — it  will  sure- 
ly pass,"  affirmed  Hilton,  laying  a  petting  hand  on  Un- 
derhiU's  shoulder.  "  There  will  be  a  reconciliation. 
Meantime,  don't  murmur  over  your  superb  self-sacrifice. 


14:0  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

It  was  a  grand  deed.  I  wish  a  Southerner  could  have 
had  the  honor  of  it." 

"  General,  I  might  have  escaped  it  as  easily  as  not," 
said  Harry.  "  I  wonder  I  didn't  think  of  it  and  do  it. 
I  had  a  chance,  half  an  hour  ago,  to  get  myself  arrested 
and  locked  up  for  the  night.  It's  amazing  that  I 
shouldn't  think  to  avail  myself  of  it.  My  wits  are  not 
in  first-rate  order  to-night.  General.  You  mustn't  won- 
der that  I  can't  mount  to  your  plane  of  discourse. 
Well,  my  wife  is  out  of  the  way,"  he  added,  with  a 
forced  smile.  "  Come  along.  We'll  go  to  the  hotel 
and  crack  a  bottle  of  champagne.  I  shall  leave  to-mor- 
row.    We'll  drink  to  Mrs.  Underhill." 

"  Going  !  —  going  to-morrow  !  "  protested  Hilton. 
"  Wait  awhile  ;  wait  for  events.  Send  a  message  and 
ask  an  interview." 

"  I  have  had  an  interview  to-night,"  said  Harry,  his 
voice  trembling  for  a  moment  with  anger.  "  She  didn't 
look  at  me.  I  doubt  whether  she  will  ever  have  an- 
other chance.     Come  along,  and  let  us  try  the  grape. 

"  '  Come,  fill  the  cup,  and  in  the  fire  of  spring 
The  winter  garment  of  repentance  fling; 
The  bird  of  time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter — and  the  bird  is  on  tbe  wing.' " 

The  General  did  not  recognize  the  quotation  from 
Omar  Khayyam,  whom  indeed  he  had  never  read,  nor 
even  heard  of,  as  few  English-speaking  people  then  had. 
But  he  seemed  to  be  solemnized  by  the  bacchanalian 
despair  of  the  great  Persian.  He  shook  his  head  sor- 
rowfully and  answered  in  a  tone  of  compassion  :  "  No. 
Excuse  me  from  joining*  you.  I  can't  feel  like  cham- 
pagne this  evening.  Good-night,  my  dear  fellow  ;  and 
God  guide  you  and  reward  you  !  " 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  141 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

At  an  early  hour  after  breakfast  the  next  morning, 
Hilton  entered  Underhill's  parlor  and  presence  with  an 
enthusiasm  of  greeting  which  seemed  to  indicate  the 
inflammation  of  strong  drink,  but  which  really  sprang 
from  Southern  sensibility  and  heartiness. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Colonel  !  "  he  exclaimed,  seizing  and 
squeezing  both  the  young  fellow's  hands.  "  Colonel  of 
my  heart  and  soul :  My  superior  officer  in  the  ranks  of 
chivalry !  So  you  didn't  at  once  shake  off  our  dust 
from  your  feet  ?  I  am  delighted.  I  wanted  one  more 
sight  of  your  face.  I  come  to  look  on  you — to  look  up 
at  you.  Colonel — and  to  congratulate  you." 

"Don't  be  satirical.  General,"  returned  Underhill, 
rather  glumly.  "  I  am  neither  to  be  worshiped  nor  to 
be  envied." 

"  You  still  can't  see  your  own  position,"  said  Hilton. 
"  It  is  a  very  noble  one,  much  nobler  than  your  wife's." 

"  My  wife  ? "  repeated  the  husband,  with  an  angry 
laugh  ;  ''  yes,  I  icas  married,  I  believe.  I  suppose  I  am 
married  at  this  present  moment.  Does  anybody  know 
where  my  wife  is  ?  "      . 

The  General  made  no  reply  to  the  petulant  but  nat- 
ural sarcasm.  He  simply  sat  down  with  the  patient 
and  compassionate  air  of  a  physician  who  perceives 
that  he  has  on  hand  a  troublesome  patient. 

"I  did  dream  of  something  different,"  continued 
Underhill.  "  I  did  nurse  a  feeble,  foolish  hope  that  a 
Southern  lady  might  mean  something  when  she  swore 
to  love." 

"And  you?"  inquired  Hilton.  "You  could  live 
with  her  ? — would  prefer  it  ? — now  ?  " 


142  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  General,  I  didn't  take  any  champagne  last  even- 
ing," said  Harry,  speaking  very  deliberately  and  gravely. 
*'I  passed  the  evening,  and  a  large  part  of  the  night 
too,  in  thinking  and  remembering.  Those  vows  re- 
peated themselves  to  me  over  and  over.  That  presence 
haunted  me.  I  decided  not  to  leave  here  without  try- 
ing to  see  my  wife.  I  decided  that  I  should  prefer  to 
live  with  her." 

"  I  am  glad  beyond  measure  to  know  it,"  returned 
Hilton,  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  satisfaction.  "You 
have  given  me  greater  pleasure  than  any  other  man 
could  possibly  give  me.  I  repeat  and  solemnly  affirm 
that  you  are  worthy  of  your  good  fortune,  and  of  all 
good  fortune.  You  are  meeting  these  singular  and  very 
trying  circumstances  in  a  noble  spirit.  If  you  are  not 
a  Bayard,"  he  concluded  with  a  smile  of  wonder  and 
worship,  *''  then  we  have  no  Bayards  on  earth." 

"  No,  I  am  not  a  Bayard,"  denied  Underbill,  shaking 
his  head  sorrowfully.  "  I  came  very  near  breaking  pa- 
role last  evening.  I  should  have  run  away  with  another 
woman,  if  she  would  have  let  me." 

"  I  don't  marvel,"  conceded  Hilton,  though  he  looked 
startled.  "  It  must  have  been  a  trying  hour.  Well,  I 
praise  you  all  the  more — all  the  more  because  you  did 
the  improbable — all  the  more  because  you  had  a  temp- 
tation and  resisted  it." 

Underbill  paused  a  moment,  as  if  pondering  some 
fastidious  subject,  and  then  asked,  "You  remember 
Miss  Macmorran  ?  " 

The  General  bowed  urbanely,  and  raised  his  hand 
with  the  gesture  of  a  soldier  saluting  a  superior  officer. 

"I  owe  her  a  kindness,"  murmured  Harry.  "She 
saved  me  from  doing  a  foolish  and  dishonorable  act. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  143 

Can  you  help  me  in  the  matter,  or  rather  in  the  manner, 
of  paying  my  debt  ?  " 

"  Colonel,  oblige  me  by  putting  me  to  any  trouble 
on  your  account,  or  on  hers.  She  is  a  most  admirable 
young  lady.  I  don't  care  what  her  lineage  is.  I  say 
— lady  !  " 

"  She  would  not  accept  a  favor  from  me.  I  have 
done  her  no  wrong  :  ah  !  yes,  I  have — I  have  pained 
her.  Never  mind — I  won't  go  over  that.  But  she  is 
delicate  and  high-minded  ;  she  would  never  accept  my 
kindnesses.  Whatever  is  done  for  her  must  seem  to 
come  from  some  other  source." 

Then,  after  some  discussion,  it  was  agreed  that  two 
thousand  dollars  should  be  passed  over  to  Hilton  ;  that 
he  should  privately  deliver  it  to  the  priest  of  Saint  Pat- 
rick's for  the  use  and  benefit  of  Norah  Macmorran  ;  and 
that  she  should  be  led,  if  possible,  to  look  upon  it  as 
the  gift  of  the  Church.  With  this  money  she  would 
be  free  to  go  to  Europe  and  pursue  her  education  in 
music. 

"That  is  what  she  wants,"  explained  Underbill. 
"  It  is  the  best  thing  I  can  do  for  her  at  present.  It 
must  answer  for  the  present."  He  paused,  looked 
steadily  at  the  General  with  a  bitter  smile,  and  then 
added,  "  It  is  a  part  of  the  money  which  I  meant  for 
my  bridal  trip,  in  case  such  a  trip  might  be." 

"The  bridal  trip  will  come,"  affirmed  Hilton.  "I 
promise  and  prophesy  it,  Colonel.  No,  doubt  it  de- 
pends somewhat  upon  yourself  how  soon  it  shall  come." 

"  Suppose  I  should  make  a  morning  call  upon  my 
wife — a  mere  call  of  ceremony — and  congratulation  ?  " 

"  I  am  glad  to  hope  and  believe  that  you  wish  to  see 
her,"  responded  the  General,  disregarding  the  tone  of 


144  TEE  BLOODY  CEA8M. 

sarcasm.  "  But  let  me  beg  of  you  to  be  considerate," 
he  resumed,  after  a  moment  of  meditation.  "Don't 
be  hasty  with  regard  to  Miss  Beaufort — I  mean  Mrs. 
Underbill.'' 

"  She  might  fire  on  me,  as  her  sister  fired  on  Sher- 
man's column."  . 

"  Ah  !  you  have  heard  of  that  ?  Well,  now,  I 
don't  want  to  say  a  word  in  excuse  of  such  an  act  of 
ecstatic  madness — mere  womanish  excitability  and  hys- 
teria, you  of  course  understand — though  our  impas- 
sioned people  made  a  good  deal  of  it  at  the  time.  But 
it  shows  the  nature  of  the  Beaufort  blood.  It  is  a  story 
which  says,  Be  gentle." 

"  I  mean  to  be  gentle." 

"  I  hope  you  do  seriously  mean  it.  I  thought  you 
spoke  harshly — excuse  me,  I  should  say  sardonically — a 
moment  ago." 

"Very  true.  Of  course,  I  am  sardonic  and  indig- 
nant. I  had  hoped — it  was  a  ridiculous  idea.  General — 
but  I  had  hoped  for  a  message  this  morning,  a  message 
of  ordinary  courtesy,  at  least.  You  brought  nothing  of 
the  sort,  I  see." 

Hilton  shook  his  head  and  sighed,  "  Alas  !  not  yet." 

"  Well,  who  wouldn't  be  indignant  ?  "  demanded  Un- 
derhill,  striking  his  fist  on  the  table.  There  was  a 
pause,  and  then  he  resumed  with  singular  tranquillity, 
and  in  a  low  voice  :  "  Never  mind  all  that.  General,  I 
have  decided  what  to  do." 

The  old  friend  of  the  Beauf orts  leaned  forward  with 
an  expression  of  extreme  anxiety. 

"  Last  night,  all  alone  here,  I  came  to  a  resolution," 
continued  Underhill.  "  I  resolved  to  win  my  wife  to 
myself,  if  it  cost  me  the  labor  of  a  life  to  do  it." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  145 

The  General  leaned  still  farther  forward  and  grasped 
the  young  man's  hand,  murmuring:  "  Oh,  God  bless  you, 
my  boy  !     Do  it  !     She  is  worth  a  lifetime." 

"I  will,"  affirmed  Underhill,  as  solemnly  as  if  he 
were  registering  an  oath.  "  I  will  win  her  as  surely  as 
the  North  won  the  South.  I  will  do  it — I  will  certainly 
do  it — no  matter  what  it  costs.  If  four  years  won't  an- 
swer, I  will  put  in  forty  !  " 

"Really,  Colonel,  you  awe  me,"  said  Hilton,  drop- 
ping back  in  the  chair  and  studying  the  young  man's 
face.     "  You  are  the  North  incarnate." 

'•  And  my  wife  is  the  South." 

"  Yes — a  woman,"  sighed  the  General,  "  a  generous 
and  impassioned  woman.  The  South  has  been  just  that, 
and  only  that,  all  my  lifetime.     I  see  it  now." 

Underhill  rose  and  walked  the  room  in  silence  for  a 
minute  or  two.  When  he  resumed  his  seat,  he  asked 
quietly,  "  Shall  I  have  your  help  ?  " 

"  Yes — loyal  help,"  fervently  promised  Hilton.  "  In 
this  fight  I  am  a  Union  man,  heart  and  soul." 

"  I  expected  as  much  of  you,  General  ;  still,  I  am 
greatly  obliged.  Well,  the  first  service  that  I  want  of 
you  is  that  you  should  bear  a  message  to  my  wife." 
•  *'  Colonel,  I  will  bear  it.  I  earnestly  hope — excuse 
me  for  presuming  to  counsel — I  earnestly  hope  that  it 
will  be  a  kind  one." 

"  She  won't  think  it  kind,  I  suppose.  You  have 
brought  up  your  young  people  as  madmen  and  mad- 
women. They  look  upon  an  extended  hand,  if  it  is  a 
Northern  hand,  as  an  insult." 

"  Alas  !  what  could  you  expect  ?  We  were  beaten 
and  humiliated  ;  we  were  beaten  in  peace  and  beaten  in 
war — terribly  humiliated  in  both.     Please  to  remember, 

7 


146  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

moreover,  that  in  this  particular  case  there  have  been 
special  reasons  for  bitterness." 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  I  am  sorry  for  it.  But  there 
are  special  reasons  for  good-will,  too." 

"  Colonel,  I  admit  it  fully  and  gladly  ;  and  I  believe 
that  the  good-will  is  sure  to  come." 

"  The  message  is  this,"  said  Underbill,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  reflection.  "  Tell  her  that  I  have  given  her  my 
hand,  and  I  now  offer  her  my  heart." 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  fellow,"  exclaimed  the  General,  ris- 
ing in  such  enthusiasm  and  haste  that  his  wooden  leg 
nearly  gave  way  under  him,  and  putting  his  hand  on 
the  young  man's  shoulder,  as  much  to  find  support  as  to 
bestow  a  caress — "  ah  !  my  noble  friend,  you  have  won 
my  heart,  at  all  events.  That  message  I  will  bear  at 
once,  and  I  hope  not  unavailingly." 

"Let  me  know  the  answer,  whatever  it  may  be," 
called  Underhill,  leaning  out  of  the  door  after  the  de- 
parting veteran. 

"  You  shall  see  me  again  to-day — within  two  hours, 
if  possible,"  promised  Hilton  as  he  tramped  down  the 
resounding  hall. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

While  the  General  was  making  his  way  toward 
Aunt  Chloe's  shanty,  the  inhabitants  thereof  were  pack- 
ing their  small  properties  and  otherwise  preparing  for  a 
migration  to  the  venerable  town-house  of  the  Beauf orts, 
abandoned  some  two  years  ago  to  the  occupancy  of 
Confederate  military  officers,  and,  since  their  removal, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  147 

abandoned  to  rats  and  cockroaches.  Virginia's  purpose 
was  to  gradually  refit  and  refurnish  it,  and  recommence 
therein  the  Honored  plenteous  existence  of  other  days. 
Why  should  Beauforts  relinquish  the  family  mansion, 
or  depart  from  the  sacred  sand  and  muck  of  Charles- 
ton? 

The  household  was  a  remarkably  cheerful  one  this 
morning.  There  was  a  continuous  tinkle  of  feminine 
prattle,  mingled  at  times  with  hilarity.  Obviously,  the 
change  from  pinching  poverty  to  full-handed  wealth 
was  enough  to  efface,  at  least  for  the  moment,  many  a 
somber  recollection,  and  every  kind  of  foreboding.  The 
two  ladies  were  gay,  in  spite  of  bygone  bereavements 
and  disasters,  and  in  spite  of  the  thought  that  their  pres- 
ent prosperity  had  come  to  them  from  the  Yankees. 
The  occasional  remembrance  of  Mr.  Underbill,  even, 
could  not  banish  smiles  from  Mrs.  Underhill's  lips.  Only 
Mauma  Chloe,  that  veteran  grumbler,  that  maroon-col- 
ored accusing  angel,  showed  an  intermittent  disposition 
to  murmur  and  upbraid. 

"  We  shall  soon  be  out  of  this  wretched  den,"  said 
Mrs.  Dumont,  striving  in  vain  to  be  dignified,  and  not 
to  smile  all  the  time.  "  Only  half  an  hour  more,  and 
we  shall  be  in  the  dear  old  mansion  again,  the  house 
where  Beauforts  have  lived  and  died  for  a  century."  ^ 

"You  hasn'  been  so  powerful  mis'able  yere,  Miss 
Anna,"  retorted  Aunt  Chloe.  "  Yous  enj'yed  you'  health 
an'  swallered  you'  vittles  like  a  wil'-cat." 

"  I  have  been  miserable,"  insisted  Mrs.  Dumont,  with 
great  cheerfulness.  "Don't  tell  that  story  to  a  born 
lady  who  remembers  that  she  has  lived  and  slaved  like 
a  sand-hiller." 

"  Sand-hillers  don'  work  ef  dey  kin  help  it.     Well, 


148  TEE  ELOODY  CEASM, 

you  has  worked  dat  way — worked  bekase  you  couldn' 
help  it." 

"  We  don't  want  to  be  reminded  of  it,  Chloe," 
laughed  Virginia, — "  Never  mind,  Aunt  Dumont,  we 
have  come  into  our  own  again — or  somebody  else's  own." 

"  You  hasn'  got  all  you'  own.  Miss  Ginny,"  grum- 
bled the  Mauma.  "  Don'  seem  to  be  no  husban'  'bout, 
's  he  oughter  be." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  harping  on  that,"  said  the 
bride,  with  just  a  momentary  shade  of  gloom  on  her 
face.  ''  It's  quite  enough  to  pay  such  a  price  for  com- 
fort, without  being  reminded  of  it  every  ten  minutes." 

"  A  husban's  a  mighty  handy  thing  to  have  roun'  a 
house,  an'  mighty  comfo'ting,  too,  fur  a  body  as  has 
sense.  You  jess  try  yourn  a  month,  honey.  Ef  you 
gits  tired  on  him,  you  kin  quit  agin,  like  niggah-folks. 
'Tain't  nohow  fair  play,  dis  yere  'rangement.  You  gits 
a  heap,  and  he  gits  nothin'  ;  you's  better  off,  an'  he's 
wuss  off.  An'  you  calls  it  good  luck,  an'  goes  roun' 
a-smirkin',  like  a  niggah  dat's  stole  a  sheep  an'  got  some- 
body else  in  jail  for  it.  Wonner  what  de  raal  ole-time 
Beauf orts  'd  say  to  't  ?  Dey  useter  talk  a  heap  'bout 
fair  play,  d'  ole-time  Beauforts  did." 

Virginia  seemed  to  be  stung  at  last,  and  with  a  slight 
stamp  of  her  slipper  (the  once  bare  foot  was  in  a  lovely 
slipper  now)  she  ordered  Chloe  to  stop  scolding. 

"  Spiled  baby,"  muttered  the  old  woman,  meantime 
petulantly  cording  a  mattress.  "  Doos  she  s'pose  d'whole 
yea'th  is  gwine  ter  shet  up  bekase  she  stomps  her  foot  ? 
Other  folks  '11  talk  ef  I  don't.  Spiled  baby  ! — spiled 
her  myself — couldn'  help  it — she  was  so  putty." 

Presently  Virginia  heard  approaching  footsteps. 
"  There  comes  somebody,"  she  said.    "  Remember,  Chloe, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  149 

you  are  not  to  speak  of  my  wedding,  except  to  General 
Hilton.     It's  to  be  hushed  up  as  much  as  possible." 

Then  Hilton  entered,  and  saluted  everybody  in  his 
most  cheerful  fashion,  his  face  radiant  with  content  over 
the  reestablished  fortunes  of  the  Beauforts. 

"  The  evil  days  are  over,"  he  smiled.  "  What  a 
pleasure  it  is  to  think  of  you  once  more  as  being  in  cir- 
cumstances of  comfort — yes,  and  of  opulence  !  You  are 
situated  as  Beauforts  should  be — as  Beauforts  are  ac- 
customed to  be." 

"  Ah,  yes  ! "  answered  Virginia,  gayly.  She  was 
young  and  could  not  help  being  elated  by  prosperity, 
nor  help  showing  her  gladness.  "Isn't  it  a  relieJ&? 
Isn't  it  delightful  ?  " 

Presently  she  began  to  talk  of  the  family  debt  to 
Hilton.  "I  must  begin  to  settle  with  my  creditors,'' 
she  said.  "  I  owe  you  over  twenty  thousand  dollars.  I 
want  to  pay  at  once." 

"You  can't,"  the  General  laughed.  "Your  prin- 
cipal, you  must  remember,  is  trusteed,  and  you  can't 
touch  it.  Your  income  is  thirty  thousand  dollars,  pay- 
able in  semi-annual  installments — fifteen  thousand  every 
six  months.     That  is  your  situation  financially." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  Well,  but  I  can  pay  you  ten  thousand 
pretty  soon,  can't  I  ? — and  ten  thousand  more  when 
I  get  my  next  installment.  In  a  year  I  can  pay  up 
everything  :  that  is,  all  the  money — never  the  obliga- 
tion." 

Mrs.  Dumont,  poor  woman,  greatly  terrorized  by 
the  bygone  poverty,  looked  scared  at  the  thought  of 
parting  with  such  a  sum  so  soon.  "  Isn't  there  one  ob- 
jection to  being  hasty  about  this  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Sup- 
pose Mr.  Underbill  should  hear  of  the  payment  ?     Isn't 


150  THE  BLOODY  CEA8M. 

there  some  danger  that  he  might  think  the  General  had 
favored  the  marriage  in  order  that  Virginia  might  be 
able  to  settle  with  him  ?  A  Yankee,  you  know,  would 
judge  from  a  selfish  point  of  view." 

Hilton  smilingly  waved  away  the  supposition.  "  Not 
this  Yankee,"  he  said.  "As  for  the  debt,  I  am  in  no 
hurry.  I  am  safe,  and  can  wait.  But  as  for  Underhill's 
suspicions,  he  knows  all  about  my  claim.  I  told  him  of 
it  myself  ;  I  couldn't  in  honor  do  otherwise.  Moreover, 
the  Colonel  is  incapable  of  a  mean  judgment.  A  more 
high-minded  young  gentleman  I  never  met." 

"  Dar,  now  !  "  exulted  Aunt  Chloe.  "  D'ain't  nothin' 
so  mean  'bout  dem  Yankees.  Ef  dey  was  mean,  why 
didn't  dey  take  us  fur  dar  own  niggahs,  'stead  o'  givin' 
us  our  freedom  ?  " 

"  You've  got  us  there,  aunty,"  the  General  laughed. 
"As  for  this  particular  Yankee,  you  will  respect  and. 
admire  him — when  you  come  to  know  him  !  " 

He  seemed  to  be  addressing  Virginia,  and  that  young 
lady  looked  rather  startled,  not  to  say  annoyed.  "  I 
never  shall  know  him  !  "  she  retorted,  hastily.  "  What 
do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  she  never  will  know  him,"  echoed  JVIrs. 
Dumont,  though  not  with  her  niece's  energy. 

"  Xow,  General,  don't  tell  me  that  you  are  beginning 
to  take  this  man's  part,"  implored  Virginia.  "  If  you 
have  brought  me  any  message  from  him,  you  and  I  will 
have  a  quarrel." 

"  My  child,  do  be  more  calm,"  lectured  Mrs.  Du- 
mont, who  had  a  talent  of  good  advice,  and  never  buried 
it  in  a  naj^kin.     *'  Always  remember  what  you  are." 

"  She  ain't  no  Beaufort,"  snapped  Aunt  Chloe. — 
"  Miss  Ginny,  remember  dat  you  is  a  Underhill." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  151 

"I  command  you  never  to  call  me  by  that  name 
again  !  "  ordained  the  bride,  her  cheeks  glowing. 

The  General  glanced  smilingly  and  patiently  from 
face  to  face  during  this  dialogue.  At  last  he  said  :  "  I 
noticed  as  I  came  in  that  there  was  a  hack  at  the  door. 
Perhaps  I  am  interfering  with  the  family  pleasures. 
Ah,  butterflies  of  fashion  !     A  hack  already  !  '■ 

"  Dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dumont,  recollecting, 
no  doubt,  that  the  vehicle  was  to  be  paid  for  by  the 
hour,  and  still  troubled  by  a  feeling  that  money  was 
very  precious.  *'  Chloe,  you  and  I  must  be  off. — Do  ex- 
cuse us,  General ;  we  are  going  to  the  dear  old  man- 
sion ;  we  are  moving  out  of  this  place — wretched 
hole  ! " 

Uncle  Phil  and  the  coachman  soon  charged  the  hack 
with  packages  and  bundles.  Then  the  General  gave 
Mrs.  Dumont  his  arm,  and  gallantly  escorted  her  to  her 
seat,  followed  by  Aunt  Chloe.  As  the  two  women 
drove  away,  they  looked  out  of  the  window  of  the  ram- 
shackle conveyance  with  smiles  of  satisfaction  which 
were  really  pathetic. 

"  Ain't  dis  yere  like  d'  ole  times  ! "  chuckled  the 
Mauma,  who  evidently  considered  Beaufort  prosperities 
as  her  own,  whether  in  the  past  or  the  present.  "  It's 
nigh  upon  three  yeahs  sence  we's  rid  in  a  coach." 

The  General  lifted  his  hat  in  stately  farewell  to  Mrs. 
Dumont,  and  returned  to  the  cabin  to  deliver  Under- 
hill's  message  to  Virginia. 

"  What  have  you  got  to  say  to  me  ?  "  she  demanded, 
after  one  glance  at  his  thoughtful  face.  "  I  won't  hear 
it." 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  I  am  bearer  of  a  word  to  you 
from — " 


152  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  I  won't  hear  it — I  won't  hear  it !  "  interrupted  the 
girl,  making  a  gesture  of  stopping  her  ears. 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  hear  it.  Don't  refuse  when 
you  are  ignorant  of  its  tenor,  and  even  of  its  subject." 

"  He  was  to  let  me  alone,  and  I  was  to  let  him  alone. 
That  was  the  understanding.  Still,"  she  hesitated,  "  if 
it  concerns  business — " 

"  It  concerns  the  marriage." 

"  Then  I  don't  want  to  hear  it.  Please,  my  dear, 
good  old  friend — please  don't  try  to  force  it  upon  me." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  accord  some  weight  to  the 
opinion  of  an  old  friend  and  a  South  Carolina  gentle- 
man. My  opinion  is,  that  you  should  listen  to  the  mes- 
sage." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  groaned  Virginia,  in  whose  eyes  real 
gentlemen.  Southern  gentlemen,  were  great  beings.  "  I 
want  to  do  what  a  lady  should,  however  disagreeable  it 
may  be.     Well,  if  I  ought,  I  must.     What  is  it  ?  " 

*'  Let  me  beg  of  you  in  advance  to  note  one  thing — a 
lady  and  a  Beaufort  should  note  it  :  This  young  man 
has  put  his  happiness  at  stake,  if  he  has  not  absolutely 
sacrificed  it,  in  order  to  give  you  this  fortune.  For 
your  sake  (and  he  owed  you  nothing,  remember),  he  has 
sacrificed  a  liberty  and  opportunities  which  a  young 
man  must  necessarily  hold  very  dear.  It  was  a  most 
noble  action.     I  doubt  if  ever  a  Beaufort  did  a  nobler." 

Virginia  had  the  susceptible  conscience  and  the  ten- 
der feelings  of  youth.  Her  face  expressed  conviction  of 
wrong,  and  her  lips  quivered  with  a  sense  of  humilia- 
tion, as  she  answered,  "  What  are  you  siding  against  me 
for  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  I  am  not  siding  against  you  ;  I  am 
not  condemning  you." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  153 

"  You  arc.  You  intimated  that  there  was  one  Beau- 
fort less  magnanimous  than  this  Federal  officer.  I  wish 
you  would  speak  out.  Am  I  a  mean  woman  for  taking 
this  money  ?  " 

"  The  lawful  owner  of  it  meant  it  for  you.  You  did 
right  in  taking  it.  But  ought  you  not  to  go  further  ? 
He  had  other  wishes." 

"  I  could  give  it  up  rather  than  scorn  myself,"  sighed 
Virginia. 

"  And  send  your  aunt  back  to  ironing  rather  than 
scorn  yourself  ?  Besides,  the  marriage  was  yesterday, 
and  not  to-morrow." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  the  girl  repeated,  her  mind  reverting 
to  the  scene  of  her  bridal.  "  What  a  horrible  evening 
it  was  !     I  wonder  I  slept  after  it." 

•  "Keep  the  estate,  of  course,"  pursued  the  General. 
"  It  was  meant  for  you,  and  you  terribly  need  it.  But 
you  ought  to  keep  the  man  also." 

"  I've  got  to  keep  him,"  said  Virginia,  with  a  sim- 
plicity which  w^ould  have  been  amusing,  only  that  she 
suddenly  broke  into  sobs.  It  was  necessarily  a  terrible 
thing  to  a  young  woman  to  lose  every  hope  and  imagi- 
nation of  hope  as  to  ever  marrying  any  one  whom  she 
could  love.  "  I'm  as  much  bound  and  chained  as  he  is,'' 
she  went  on,  as  soon  as  she  could  speak.  "  More  !  He 
can  get  a  divorce.  He  can  go  to  some  of  those  horrid 
Northern  States,  and  get  a  divorce  for  abandonment." 

"  He  is  a  gentleman  ;  there  is  no  doubt  of  that," 
said  Hilton.  "  Suppose  he  doesn't  choose  to  dishonor 
himself,  and  publish  his  dishonor  to  the  world  ?  " 

"  Ah — well  ! "  sighed  Virginia,  in  the  tone  of  a 
woman  who  gives  up  a  hope — a  shabby  hope  which  she 
was  ashamed  of.     "  Then  he  means  to  hold  me  ?     Well, 


154  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

he  can.  I  sha'n't  ask  for  a  divorce.  InTo  South  Carolina 
lady  ever  did.  There  are  no  divorces  here,  thank 
Heaven  !  " 

"  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  no  such  pur- 
pose," returned  the  General,  very  gravely.  "It  would 
not  be  suited  to  a  person  of  your  blood." 

"  You  needn't  fear,"  declared  the  girl,  reddening. 
"  I  shall  keep  for  life  the  exact  agreement  that  I  made. 
I  shall  remember  what  I  am  and  who  I  am." 

"  Will  you  kindly  and  considerately  hear  the  mes- 
sage which  I  have  thought  it  right  and  decorous  to 
bear  ?  " 

"  I  must,  if  you  bring  it,"  gasped  Virginia. 

Hilton  paused  a  moment,  and  then  said,  with  a  ten- 
der and  touching  solemnity,  "Mr.  Underhiir  charged 
me  to  say  that  he  had  given  you  his  hand,  and  that  he 
now  offers  you  his  heart." 

Virginia  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  recoiled  two  or 
three  steps,  as  if  from  the  offer  of  a  serpent.  Her  face 
was  crimson  all  over,  her  eyebrows  were  joined  in  a 
straight  line,  and  her  eyes  were  dilated,  black,  and 
sparkling.  She  looked  as  terrible  as  a  beautiful  young 
woman  well  can. 

"  His  heart  ? "  she  demanded,  in  a  kind  of  scream. 
"  What  does  the  man  mean  ?  How  can  he  give  me  his 
heart  ?  He  has  never  seen  me.  He  must  hate  me — as 
I  hate  him.  We  shall  always  hate  each  other.  We  are 
enemies  for  life." 

"  Think  of  it,"  urged  the  General,  in  a  low,  quieting 
voice.     "  Think  of  it  by  yourself,  and  as  kindly  as  you 


can." 


**  I  will  not  think  of  it !    Oh,  my  dear  friend,  I  can't. 
How  can  I  ?     Remember  my  brothers  and  my  sister. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  155 

How  could  I  live  with  him  ?  Do  advise  with  him  ;  tell 
him  all  about  it  ;  tell  him  it  can't  be.  I  don't  want  to 
be  harsh  with  him.  Tell  him  I  thank  him — thank 
him  on  my  very  knees — for  what  he  has  done  for  me. 
But  he  wouldn't  be  happy  with  me.  I  couldn't  make 
him  happy.  He  couldn't  make  me  happy.  Tell  him 
that— do  ! " 

"  Ah,  dear  !  "  sighed  Hilton,  very  sadly.  "  Is  this 
final  ?  " 

"  Yes — oh,  yes  !  Have  pity  on  me  and  say  so.  Per- 
suade him  that  it  is  final,  and  that  he  musnt't  try  to 
change  it." 

"I  am  greatly  disappointed  and  grieved,"  said  the 
General,  rising  to  go.  "  But  I  will  honorably  tell  him 
what  you  have  said." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  What  a  weight  you  take  off  my 
heart  !  " 

"  To  lay  it  on  his,"  murmured  Hilton.  "  Well — now 
we  have  done  with  the  subject — for  the  present." 

"  For  ever,"  insisted  Virginia.  Then  a  new  thought 
seemed  to  strike  her,  and  she  asked,  with  eager  interest  : 
"  Where  is  he  ?  What  is  he  going  to  do  ?  Does  he 
mean  to  stay  here  ?  " 

"  I  understand  that  he  is  disposed  to  remain  for  a 
time,"  stated  the  General. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  This  breaks 
up  all  my  plans.  I  am  so  disappointed  !  I  had  hoped 
and  trusted  that  I  was  to  be  free  and  undisturbed.  I 
wanted  to  reoccupy  the  old  mansion.  But,  if  he 
stays  here,  that  ends  everything.  I  can't  meet  him 
— I  can't,  you  know.  I  must  go  to  Europe  and  hide 
there." 

"  It  is  very  sad,"  groaned  Hilton,  as  he  opened  the 


156  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

door.     "  Well,  my  kindest  wishes  to  you,  and  my  ad- 
vice whenever  you  want  it.     Good-by,  my  child." 

"  Good-by,"  answered  Virginia,  and  sat  down  in  the 
old  rush-bottomed  chair,  crying  bitterly. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  immediate  result  of  Underhill's  offer  of  his 
heart  was,  that  his  wife  gave  up  the  stately  project  of 
abiding  in  the  mansion  of  her  forefathers  and  made  a 
hasty  hegira  to  Europe. 

She  led  away  into  the  desert  of  earth  (afar  from 
the  Arabia  Felix  of  South  Carolina  and  the  Mecca  of 
Charleston)  her  aunt  and  her  two  faithful  adherents, 
Mauma  Chloe  and  Uncle  Phil.  She  would  not  pass 
through  the  triumphant  and  barbarous  North  ;  she 
revolted  from  the  idea  of  taking  a  Northern  line  of 
steamers.  It  was  dreadful  even  to  think  of  seeing 
hordes  of  Yankees,  and  of  sitting  cheek  by  jowl  at 
table  with  abolitionists,  and  of  being  easily  tracked  by 
one's  Bostonian  husband.  For  the  sake  of  securing  all 
possible  secrecy  and  tranquillity,  the  romantic  evasion 
was  made  by  a  fruiterer  to  Havana,  and  thence  by 
Spanish  steamer  to  Cadiz.  Afterward  came  a  leisure- 
ly, a  marvelous,  an  unexpectedly  comforting  saunter 
through  Spain,  Italy,  and  Switzerland,  ending,  as  the 
European  journeyings  of  Americans  must,  with  an  en- 
try into  Paris.  We  shall  find  them  amid  the  clocks 
and  mirrors  and  other  knickknackeries  of  a  handsome 
apartment  on  the  second  floor  of  the  Hotel  du  Louvre. 

Virginia,  who  has  just  returned  from  a  drive  through 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  157 

the  glamour  of  Parisian  squares  and  architecture  and 
triumphal  columns,  is  exclaiming  and  repeating  :  *'  I 
am  so  glad  we  ventured  to  come  here  !  What  a  won- 
derful, beautiful,  bewitching  city  !  " 

"  It  is  a  Babylon,"  declares  Mrs.  Dumont,  who  can 
not  forget  the  poverty-stricken  sanctity  of  South  Caro- 
lina, though  she  has  obviously  done  much  expensive 
shopping  of  late,  and  is  arrayed  in  rather  Babylonish 
garments.  "  God  will  visit  it  some  day  with  the  besom 
of  destruction,"  she  adds,  rolling  up  her  eyes  at  the 
crystal  chandelier.  "  Such  pride  and  luxury  Avill  surely 
bring  judgment." 

"  My  dear  aunt,  you  have  called  every  city  that  we 
have  seen  a  Babylon,"  laughs  Virginia.  "  Every  place 
bigger  than  Charleston  you  have  set  down  for  a  visita- 
tion." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  any  place  being  bigger  than 
Charleston,"  says  Mrs.  Dumont,  with  firmness  and  so- 
lemnity. 

"  Except  for  the  purpose  of  holding  more  people," 
is  the  comment  of  a  young  woman  who  has  evidently 
learned  to  like  big  places. 

"  The  greater  the  city,  the  greater  the  iniquity  of 
it,"  affirms  the  elder  lady,  refusing  to  smile  or  be  com- 
forted. "  I  recoil  from  masses  of  people.  I  abhor  a 
crowd.  A  man  ran  against  me  in  the  street  to-day. 
Of  course,  he  touched  his  hat  and  begged  pardon  ;  but 
still  one  doesn't  like  to  have  one's  ribs  joggled  by  a 
perfect  stranger.  There  is  too  much  of  our  fallen  hu- 
manity here.  Soul  and  body  are  alike  in  danger  amid 
such  a  multitude.  I  am  filled  with  terror  and  grief 
when  I  think  of  Paris.  I  feel  like  a  prophet  of  old, 
looking  for  the  coming  of  the  spoiler." 


158  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

"  Perhaps  we  are  a  little  envious,  aunt.  It  is  rather 
humiliating  to  find  that  Charleston  is  only  a  hamlet." 

"  It  is  a  ruin,"  cries  Mrs.  Dumont,  proudly. 

"  I  hope  that  doesn't  prove  that  it  has  been  a  sink 
of  iniquity." 

"  Virginia  !  You  shock  me.  What  do  you  mean 
by  such  wild  talk  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say  the  Yankee  preachers  make  that  infer- 
ence quite  seriously." 

"  No  doubt  of  it.  Shame  on  them  !  The  hypocriti- 
cal inquisitors !  " 

Virginia  yawned — actually  yawned  over  the  ques- 
tion of  North  and  South,  including  the  desolation  of 
Charleston.  It  seemed  fearfully  possible  that  absence 
from  home  and  much  gazing  upon  the  great,  fascinating 
world  outside  of  South  Carolina  had  begun  to  lull  to 
sleep  her  once  wakeful  local  patriotism. 

"I  can't  seem  to  care  so  much  here,"  she  yawned 
again.  "  Paris  is  so  beautiful — so  absorbing  and  fasci- 
nating !  " 

"Virginia,  you  must  not  forget  your  country.  If 
South  Carolina  is  nothing,  we  are  nothing.  It  is  the 
home  of  the  Beauforts  and  of  chivalry." 

"  Not  now,  dear  aunt.  There  are  no  more  Beau- 
forts,  and  there  will  soon  be  no  more  chivalry." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  groaned  Mrs.  Dumont,  smiting  her 
breast  and  turning  up  her  eyes.  "  All  our  heroes  gone  ! 
All  our  grand  hopes  dashed  !  We  were  to  have  had  a 
chivalry  of  title.  It  would  have  come  in  time.  The 
first  families  only,  of  course — the  rice  and  long-staple 
cotton  families.  I  am  sure  nothino;  could  have  been 
more  natural  and  proper.  The  Beauforts  and  Dumonts, 
for  instance,  were  not  only  great  planting  people,  but 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  159 

they  were  undoubtedly  noble  before  they  crossed  the 
Atlantic.  It  would  have  been  as  proud  and  grand  a 
peerage  as  any  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  I  mean  mor- 
ally and  intellectually.  Of  course,  there  would  have 
been  no  castles.  It  would  have  been  an  aristocracy — 
as  your  father  and  Mr.  Dumont  used  to  say — like  that 
of  Cincinnatus,  who  plowed  his  own  fields.  True  no- 
bility lies  in  noble  blood,  and  in  that  alone.  Your 
uncle  often  uttered  those  very  words." 

"And  the  noble  blood  has  been  all  spilt,"  sighed 
Virginia.  "  Oh,  the  dreadful  subject  !  I  used  to  want 
to  talk  about  it.     Kow  I  don't." 

"I  wish  we  had  some  friend  to  speak  to  of  our 
sorrows,"  said  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  I  would  not  have  them 
die  out  of  mind.  It  would  be  like  suffering  the  tomb- 
stones of  one's  family  to  go  to  decay.  General  Hilton 
will  soon  be  here,  with  his  sublime  wooden  leg.  What 
a  sad  pleasure  it  will  be  to  meet  him  !  I  would  rather 
listen  to  the  thump  of  a  Confederate  soldier's  stump 
than  to  an  opera.  By-the-way,  Virginia,  you  must 
resume  your  music.  When  do  you  propose  to  be- 
gin ?  " 

At  this  moment  Aunt  Chloe  entered  the  room,  fat 
and  jolly  in  face  and  neat  in  costume,  though  still  queer 
about  the  head  in  consequence  of  a  high-colored  tur- 
ban. 

"  Well !  this  is  pretty  behavior,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Dumont.  "  We  expected  to  find  you  here  to  take  off 
our  things  when  we  got  in.  Virginia  had  to  pull  off 
my  bootees,  my  feet  were  so  swollen  !  Where  in  the 
name  of  wonder  have  you  been  ?  " 

"  Laws  a  massy  !  dunno,"  returned  Chloe.  "  Jess 
allowed  we  never  should  git  back  yere  agin.     Ye  see, 


160  THE  BLOODX  CHASM. 

me  an'  Phil  we  went  over  to  dat  other  big  hotel — dat 
are  one  right  crost  de  way — " 

"  She  means  the  palace  of  the  Louvre,"  suggested 
Virginia. 

"  'Specs  likely,"  assented  the  Mauma.  "  But  we 
allowed  it  was  a  hotel,  an'  reckoned  we  might  see 
some  'Mericans  'bout ;  an'  so,  's  everybody  was  gwine 
in,  we  went  in  with  the  crowd.  Laws  a  massy  !  sech 
a  lot  o'  stone  gods  an'  picters  an'  all  sawts  o'  things — 
rooms  an'  rooms  an'  rooms  an'  rooms  full  of  'em — never 
s'posed  dar  could  be  s'  many  rooms  in  one  house,  nor  in 
one  town — kinder  seemed  sometimes  's  though  we'd 
got  to  another  city.  An  we  got  los' — jess  entirely  los' 
— like  chil'n  in  de  wood — could'n'  find  our  way  out  no- 
how. Tell  ye,  we  was  skeered  ;  we  walked  an'  walked 
an'  walked  ;  reckon  we  walked  mo'n  forty  mile  ;  did 
so,  Miss  Ginny — need'n'  snicker.  Tell  ye,  dat  ar  hotel 
is  bigger  inside  dan  it  is  outside — bigger'n  all  Charles- 
ton. Well,  finally  we  met  up  with  a  man  looked  like 
he  was  one  of  our  folks  ;  an'  Phil  says  to  him,  says  he, 
*  Boss,  kin  you  speak  English  ? '  An'  he  'lowed  he 
could.  An'  so,  as  he  was  a-gwine  out,  he  shown  us  the 
do',  an'  tole  us  which  way  to  travel,  fur  we  was  clean 
turned  round,  an'  did'n'  know  where  to  go  no  more'n  a 
cat  what's  been  kerried  away  from  home  in  a  meal-bag 
an'  had  his  feet  buttered.  An'  so  heah  we  is.  But  dat 
ar  hotel  is  jess  wonnerful.  Dar's  mo'  stone  gods  in  it 
dan  dar  is  folks  in  Charleston.  Is  so.  You  ask  Phil. 
Doos  dese  yere  French  people  wusship  'em.  Miss  Ginny  ?  " 

"  No,  aunty  ;  they  keep  them  as  curiosities,"  briefly 
explained  the  young  lady.  "  There  are  just  such  gal- 
leries in  several  places  where  we  have  been,  only  you 
didn't  happen  into  them." 


THE  BLODLY  CHASM.  161 

She  had  laughed  heartily  and  in  quite  a  girlish  way 
over  Chloe's  adventures.  There  was  far  more  gladness 
in  her  mirth  than  during  the  old  Charleston  days — the 
sad,  fierce  days  after  the  war,  when  her  blood  beat  only 
with  grief  and  vindictiveness. 

"  Aunt  Dumont,  you  and  I  have  been  here  a  week 
and  haven't  seen  the  Louvre  yet,"  she  went  on.  "It 
is  a  perfect  shame.  It  looks  as  though  we  were  barba- 
rians." 

"Barbarians  !  "  bridled  Mrs.  Dumont.  " I  don't  see 
so  much  civilization  and  refinement  in  blasphemous  pict- 
ures and  naked  images.  Beauforts  have  got  along,  and 
have  been  gentlemen  and  ladies,  without  all  these  dread- 
ful things  which  one  meets  in  the  public  places,  making 
a  decent  woman  ashamed  to  go  out.  Your  uncle  used  to 
tell  Mr.  AUston,  the  painter,  that  he  trusted  the  age  of 
art  never  would  come  in  South  Carolina.  And  it  never 
has.  Your  uncle  was  generally  correct.  Barbarians, 
indeed  !  I  don't  yet  look  upon  myself  as  a  Vandal. 
You  must  remember,  too,  that  our  time  has  been  com- 
pletely taken  up  with  practical  and  pressing  matters. 
Just  think  how  much  shopping  and  fitting  we  have 
done  in  the  last  week  !  " 

"  We  must  go  to  the  Louvre  to-morrow,"  said  Vir- 
ginia, with  her  characteristic  decision. 

"Well — if  we  must,"  sighed  the  senior  lady.  "I 
suppose  I  shall  have  to  see  all  the  vanities  of  this  great 
Babylon — see  them  and  lament  for  them,  because  their 
day  of  wrath  will  come.  If  Charleston  could  be  visited 
with  chastisements,  what  will  not  happen  to  Paris  ?  " 

"Aunt,  you  are  always  opening  the  sealed  vials," 
Virginia  smiled.  "  At  any  rate,  Paris  won't  be  bom- 
barded by  Gillmore,"  she  added,  with  a  transient  frown 


162  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

of  somber  reminiscence.  "  There  is  a  pleasure  in  think- 
ing that  some  places  are  beyond  that  man's  reach." 

"  Wretched  Yandal !  "  hissed  Mrs.  Diimont. 

"Does  you  mind,  Miss  Anna,"  asked  Aunt  Chloe, 
"  how  one  o'  dem  rotten  shot  upsot  Phil's  watermillion- 
table,  an'  sont  de  watermillions  a-flyin'  ?  " 

"I  saw  it  myself,"  returned  Miss  Anna,  sternly. 
"  War  in  all  its  horrors  !  The  crimson  pulps  of  the 
melons  covered  the  pavement.  I  thought  they  were 
pieces  of  Philip." 

"  An'  nex'  day  we  scooted  up  country,"  pursued 
Chloe.  "  Was  skeered  some  all  de  way,  I  was.  Didn' 
know  jess  how  fur  dat  ar  swamp-angel  could  kerry." 

"  It  is  a  perfect  nightmare  yet,"  shuddered  Virginia. 
"  Do  stop  talking  of  it!  I  want  to  be  happy  while  I  am 
in  Paris." 

"  Goody  gracious  me  !  I  mos'  done  fo'got  suthin'," 
said  Aunt  Chloe,  presently.  "  Dar  was  a  man  down- 
stairs, Miss  Ginny,  ast  me  what  you'  name  is." 

"  What  man  ?  "  demanded  the  young  lady,  coloring 
with  anxiety.     "  What  sort  of  a  man  ?    A  Yankee  ?  " 

"  Reckon  'twan't  no  Yankee,  bekase  he  spoke  French; 
only  we  could  unnerstand  him,  bekase  he  spoke  it  like 
it  was  English." 

"  Oh  !  broken  English  ;  one  of  the  clerks,  I  suppose," 
guessed  Yirgina.  "  I  hope  you  didn't  tell  him  my  name 
was  Underhill." 

"  Tole  him  I  wasn'  clar  jess  yet,  an'  I'd  step  up  an' 
ast  you.  'Specs  likely  dey're  boddered  'bout  it.  Ye  see 
I  calls  ye  Miss  Ginny  ;  an'  dat  ar  carrier-man  he  seen 
Beaufort  on  your  trunk  an'  he  called  ye  Miss  Beaufort ; 
an'  so  dey're  boddered." 

"  And  it  was  Underhill  on  the  passport,"  interjected 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  163 

Mrs.  Dumont.      "I  wonder  what  it  is   on  the  hotel- 
books  ?  " 

"  Man  said  'twas  Beaufort,"  stated  Chloe.  "  Wanted 
ter  knew  ef  'twas  right." 

"  Let  it  stay  Beaufort,"  muttered  Virginia. 

"  But  your  letters,  my  dear — your  business  letters  ?  " 
suggested  the  aunt. 

"  They  come  through  our  banker.  He  knows  that 
there  is  an  Underbill  among  us.  The  letters  won't  go 
astray.  Do,  for  pity's  sake,  let  me  be  a  Beaufort  some- 
where ! " 

"  An'  play  'possum  ?  "  demanded  Aunt  Chloe,  with 
arms  akimbo.  "  An'  git  you'self  co'ted,  like  you  was  a 
young  lady  ?  " 

"  I  won't  be  courted,  you  old  goosey,"  said  Virginia. 
"  You  needn't  stick  out  your  neck  and  hiss  at  me." 

"  But  the  passport,  my  dear  !  "  urged  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"  The  hotel  people  had  the  passport,  and  probably  the 
police  saw  it.  We  shall  surely  get  into  some  dreadful 
muddle." 

"  We  must  change  quarters,  then,  and  see  what  that 
will  do,"  returned  Mrs.  Underbill,  who  was  evidently 
bent  on  getting  herself  called  Beaufort  once  more. 
"  We'll  run  about  to-morrow  and  look  up  an  apartment. 
Indeed,  we  must  get  out  of  the  hotel,  if  I  mean  ever  to 
pay  up  General  Hilton." 

"An'  call  you'self  Miss  Beaufort?"  persisted  Aunt 
Chloe. 

Vii'ginia  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  answered 
resolutely,  "  Yes  !  " 

"Dar'U  be  some  judgment  on  dese  yere  doin's,"  pro- 
phesied the  old  woman.  "  You  wait  an'  see.  De  Lawd 
ain't  never  in  no  hurry  to  shoot,  but  he's  mighty  sartin 


16J:  TEE   BLOODY  CHASM, 

to  hit.  Better  keep  away  from  him,  ef  you  kin  find 
out  how  to  do't.  Don,  see  how  you  dast  go  to  church. 
Grasshopper  mus'  be  mighty  drunk  when  he  walk  home 
by  hen-house." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

An  apartment  of  reasonable  cost,  size,  and  garnish- 
ment was  secured  in  a  street  running  parallel  with  the 
great  avenue  of  the  Champs-Elysees  ;  and  Virginia  en- 
tered it  as  Miss  Beaufort,  not  indeed  positively  asserting 
the  name,  but  as  it  were  permitting  it  to  fall  back  upon 
her. 

Then  followed  three  months  in  Paris,  without  any 
noteworthy  incident  beyond  a  patient  application  to 
French  and  an  enthusiastic  study  of  music.  Meanwhile 
there  was  of  course  a  pleasant,  humdrum  routine  of 
shopping,  walking,  and  driving,  followed  perhaps  in  the 
evening  by  cheerful  theatre-going,  or  ecstatic  attend- 
ance on  the  opera. 

What  spare  hours  our  young  lady  found  at  home 
were  mainly  given  to  books  of  verse,  both  French  and 
English.  Not  only  was  she  at  the  age  which  most 
adores  poetry,  and  which  is  disposed  to  accept  a  poet  as 
akin  to  the  demigods,  but  there  were  wounds  in  her 
heart  which  demanded  the  consolations  of  that  soul's 
cup-bearer,  the  imagination.  Her  past  had  been  blighted 
by  bereavements,  and  her  future  by  an  enforced  self- 
sacrifice.  That  detested  marriage  of  hers,  be  it  ob- 
served, was  equivalent  to  a  disappointment  in  love,  and 
seemingly  a  disappointment  for  life.     It  was  no  wonder 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  165 

that  she  read  poetry  daily,  and  with  passionate  enjoy- 
ment and  admiration. 

Very  much  of  the  verse  of  the  time  was  curiously 
new  to  her.  After  the  fashion  of  the  best  families  of 
South  Carolina,  the  Beauforts  had  deigned  to  own  few 
books  which  had  not  been  read  and  approved  by  their 
ancestors,  such  as  the  works  of  Shakespeare,  Milton, 
Addison,  Pope,  Johnson,  and  Hannah  More.  Byron  and 
Shelley  had  been  sternly  forbidden  to  Virginia  by  a 
Puritan  mother  and  a  Roman  father.  Scarcely  any- 
thing more  modern  than  Cowper's  "  Task "  had  been 
placed  in  her  girlish  hands.  It  is  an  almost  incredible 
yet  entirely  positive  fact  that  the  Brownings  and  Ten- 
nyson were  revelations  to  this  young  lady,  who  looked 
upon  herself  as  a  result  of  the  highest  culture  of  the 
century.  In  other  directions  than  poetry,  moreover, 
her  education  had  been  limited.  The  South  had  poured 
its  every  dollar  into  the  ravenous  vortex  of  civil  war, 
and  even  its  female  schools  had  been  broken  up  by  the 
dropping  away  of  impoverished  scholars.  Virginia, 
left  alone  at  the  beginning  of  the  struggle  with  an 
elderly  and  much-troubled  father,  had  not  recited  a  les- 
son nor  picked  up  a  text-book  since  she  was  sixteen. 
No  marvel  that  she  was  hungry  to  read,  and  that  her 
eagerest  craving  was  for  poetry,  the  natural  food  of  in- 
telligent and  fervid  youth. 

Acquaintances  she  did  not  seek,  and  for  a  time  none 
intruded  upon  her.  Huge  and  miscellaneous  Paris,  per- 
haps, took  some  note  of  the  young  lady,  always  more  or 
less  veiled,  who  never  drove  out  except  in  a  close  coupe, 
and  never  walked  without  the  accompaniment  of  a  ma- 
ture friend  or  a  negro  attendant.  But  Paris  regarded 
the  phenomenon  composedly,  and  made  no  eifort  to  in- 


166  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

vade  its  privacy.  As  for  the  American  colony,  our 
Beauforts  knew  that  it  consisted  mainly  of  Northerners, 
and  they  consequently  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
The  colony,  on  the  other  hand,  never  troubled  its  mani- 
fold head  about  them,  at  least  so  far  as  could  be  dis- 
covered. 

It  was  a  lonesome,  and  at  times  a  slightly  dreary, 
existence.  Distinctly  dreary  it  was  to  Mrs.  Dumont, 
who  could  not  speak  French,  knew  naught  of  the  joys 
of  music,  and  had  small  taste  for  reading  anything  but 
sermons  and  the  prayer-book.  It  fretted  her,  moreover, 
to  perceive  that  Beauforts  were  not  sought  after  by 
Paris,  and  to  suspect  that  they  were  not  reverenced  out- 
side of  South  Carolina.  She  began  to  nourish  plans  for 
getting  into  the  native  society,  and,  more  particularly, 
into  that  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain.  At  last  she 
energetically  opened  the  matter  to  her  niece. 

"I  think  we  ought  to  see  somebody,"  she  said. 
*'  Not  Americans — there  are  no  Americans  here  whom 
we  want  to  know — I  mean  European  somebodies.  We 
really  ought  to  visit  and  invite  a  little." 

"I  don't  think  I  ought,"  was  Virginia's  judgment. 
"  What  can  a  woman  situated  as  I  am  do  in  society  ? 
It  wouldn't  be  decent  in  me  to  try  to  be  a  butterfly  of 
fashion." 

"  But  French  society  is  grave,"  urged  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"  It  is  sad  and  grave,  like  our  own.  I  don't  mean  the 
imperial  hurly-burly,  but  the  old  legitimist  circle.  You 
would  find  it  just  suited  to  your  tastes  and  feelings, 
Virginia  ;  and  you  certainly  speak  French  well  enough 
to  be  at  ease  in  it." 

"  But  ho^  are  we  to  get  into  it  ?  The  Faubourg 
Saint-Germain  is  very  exclusive." 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  167 

"  France  is  the  country  of  our  ancestors,  my  child. 
The  Beauforts  were  French  ;  so  were  the  Dumonts,  and 
both  high  blood.  Ko  one  in  South  Carolina  would  con- 
sider it  singular  or  unsuitable  to  see  you  married  to  a 
French  noble  of  the  old  stock." 

"  What  an  idea  !  I  am  married  already — to  my  sor- 
row." 

The  aunt  remained  silent  for  some  moments,  wrapped 
in  profound  meditation.  At  last  she  said  :  "  We  don't 
hear  a  word  from  that  man.  It  is  borne  in  upon  me 
that  he  is  getting  a  divorce,  as  Yankees  frequently  do, 
when  they  are  not  grubbing  for  dollars." 

"  I  don't  suppose  a  noble  of  the  old  regime  would 
take  up  with  a  divorced  American  ;  do  you,  Aunt  Du- 
mont  ?  " 

Even  Aunt  Dumont  seemed  to  give  it  up,  now  that 
it  was  put  to  her  in  that  way.  There  was  another  pe- 
riod of  musing,  and  then  she  brought  forth  the  astound- 
ing suggestion,  "  It  might  be  that  Mr.  Underbill  could 
become  a  noble." 

"  What !  "  responded  Virginia,  opening  her  eyes 
very  wide. 

"  With  his  military  rank  and  his  great  fortune,  you 
see,"  explained  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  As  a  soldier  he  would 
be  considered  all  right  here.  I  should  think  he  might 
easily  buy  a  title  of  this  corrupt  empire." 

"  And  then  what  ?  Would  you  have  me  live  with 
him  ?  " 

"  He  wouldn't  be  a  Yankee  any  longer,  you  know. 
He  would  be  a  Frenchman." 

"My  dear  aunt,  I  should  think  you  were  dreaming 
with  your  eyes  open."  •^ 

"  It's  no  great  wonder  if  I  am,"  declared  Mrs.  Du- 


168  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

mont,  yawning  with  an  air  of  extreme  ennxd.  "My 
life  is  every  bit  as  stupid  as  a  sleep.  One  can't 
doze  for  ever.  The  very  next  Southern  lady  I  meet, 
whethier  at  the  banker's  or  Galignani's,  I  shall  speak  to 
her." 

The  result  of  this  desperate  resolve  was  an  acquaint- 
ance with  a  pretty  and  apparently  wealthy  young  widow 
from  Baltimore.  Mrs.  Fitz  James  had  been  a  year  or 
so  in  Paris,  but  did  not  object  to  new  intimacies.  She 
was  very  social,  very  lively  in  disposition,  prattled  much 
and  gayly  and  heedlessly,  and  had  a  slight  air  of  being 
over-Europeanized.  The  suave  polish  of  Baltimore  just 
saved  her  from  being  a  hoyden  in  manner,  but  probably 
nothing  earthly  could  have  saved  her  from  being  a  hoy- 
den in  spirit.  In  person  she  was  a  small  and  plump 
brunette,  with  an  oval  face,  regular  features,  and  melt- 
ing black  eyes. 

The  comparatively  grave  Virginia,  an  earnest  soul 
by  nature,  and  matured  by  early  sorrows  and  agitations, 
did  not  much  fancy  the  mercurial  widow.  But  Mrs. 
Dumont  would  not  be  denied  all  human  converse  :  she 
urged  that  Marylanders  were  Southerners,  and  must  be 
treated  accordingly  ;  she  insisted  on  making  a  lap  for 
the  kitten-like  Mrs.  Fitz  James.  Moreover,  the  latter 
took  a  sort  of  passion  for  Miss  Beaufort,  as  she  called 
our  heroine  ;  she  adored  her  complexion,  her  dresses, 
her  voice,  and  her  execution  ;  in  short,  she  coaxed  her 
way  to  an  intimacy. 

One  day  she  rustled  into  Virginia's  apartment  in  the 
company  of  a  gentleman.  "  My  dear  Miss  Beaufort  !  " 
she  laughed  and  buzzed.  *^  So  delighted  to  find  you  ! 
Let  me  introduce  my  brother,  Mr.  Frank  Hedstone.  So 
glad  to  make  you  acquainted  ! — This  is  Mrs.  Dumont, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  169 

Frank — a  lady  of  the  old  regime.  Make  your  reverence 
to  her." 

"  Great  pleasure — quite  honored,"  murmured  Mr. 
Iledstone,  in  a  silvery  voice,  and  with  a  very  soft,  sweet 
demeanor.  "  I  have  the  best  of  sisters,  ladies.  I  begged 
hard  to  come  here,  and  she  hadn't  the  heart  to  refuse." 

He  closely  resembled  his  sister  :  he  was  small  and 
dark,  with  an  oval  face  and  bright,  black  eyes  ;  his 
manner,  however,  had  more  tranquillity  and  insinuation. 
His  black  hair  had  vanished  from  his  forehead,  and  yet 
he  could  not  have  been  above  thirty.  There  was  some- 
thing in  his  expression  which  bespoke  dissipation,  or  at 
least  a  considerable  degree  of  moral  laxity. 

*'  How  could  I  refuse  a  brother  ?  "  giggled  Mrs.  Fitz 
James. 

"  Or  any  other  gentleman  ?  "  added  Mr.  Hedstone, 
teasingly  jocose  in  a  brotherly  way,  but  very  silvery  and 
quiet  withal. 

"  Ain't  you  ashamed,  Frank  ! — He's  always  banter- 
ing me.  Well,  I  have  a  right  to  like  gentlemen  ;  we 
are  commanded  to  love  our  enemies.  My  dear  Miss 
Beaufort,  how  are  you  ?  That  grenadine  is  so  becom- 
ing !  I  wish  I  had  a  slender  figure.  How  well  you  are 
looking  !  I  never  see  you  out,  and  I  know  why.  You 
just  stay  at  home  and  work  at  keeping  yourself 
fresh." 

"  I  don't  think  of  it,"  returned  Virginia,  laughing, 
but  protesting.  "  I  stay  at  home  to  study  French  and 
music." 

"  She  is  at  work  from  morning  till  night,"  put  in 
Mrs.  Dumont,  with  the  natural  cluck  of  the  last  Beau- 
fort hen  over  the  last  Beaufort  chicken. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Beaufort !  "  sighed  Hedstone.  "  I  had 
8 


170  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

hoped  that  time  hung  heavy  on  your  hands.  I  had 
hoped  that  I  should  be  welcome." 

As  Virginia  did  not  reply  instantly,  Mrs.  Dumont 
interfered  to  say  that  Mr.  Hedstone  was  quite  welcome. 
"  And  Mrs.  Fitz  James  also,"  she  added.  "  South  Caro- 
linians always  accord  a  welcome  to — " 

"To  true  Southerners,"  she  would  probably  have 
said  ;  but  Mrs.  Fitz  James  could  not  wait  for  her  tc 
finish.  "  O  Miss  Beaufort !  "  she  broke  in,  "  let  me  say, 
before  I  forget  it,  that  I  have  found  you  a  professor — 
such  an  elegant,  charming,  dear  little  man — quite  the  gen- 
tleman, I  assure  you.  You  can  discharge  your  German 
boor  now.     I  beg  leave  to  insist  upon  it." 

Mrs.  Dumont,  by  dint  of  being  spry  about  it,  found 
a  chance  to  say,  "  I  am  glad  you  have  found  a  gentle- 
man for  her." 

"  Gentilhomme ! "  nodded  and  smiled  Mrs.  Fitz 
James.  ""Pra^  geyitilhomme^  Mrs.  Dumont.  Noble 
blood — ancient  house." 

"  Capital  little  fellow,  too,  De  Bethune  is,"  fluted 
Hedstone.  "  Shares  my  admiration  for  my  sister, 
and  of  course  deserves  my  good  word,  as  well  as 
hers." 

"  Do  hush,  Frank  !  "  giggled  the  lively  widow.  "  Mrs. 
Dumont  won't  understand  your  babble. — It's  nothing  of 
the  sort.  Miss  Beaufort.  I'm  chiefly  interested  just  now 
in  a  Colonel  Peyton — a  new  acquaintance  lately  come 
from  Virginia  ;  I'll  tell  you  about  him  some  time.  As 
for  De  Bethune,  I  like  him  too  ;  who  wouldn't  ?  He 
is  a  noble — oh  !  a  real  one — no  doubt  about  that — an 
awfully  old  house. — What  was  the  story,  Frank?" 

"  One  of  his  ancestors  was  made  Seigneur  d'Aumale 
by  Richard  the  Lion-hearted,"  stated  Hedstone. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  171 

"  Coeur  de  Lion  !  time  of  the  Crusades  !  "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Fitz  James.     "  Wasn't  that  splendid  ?  " 

"  Indeed  it  was,"  said  Mrs.  Dumont,  almost  awe- 
stricken.  Then  she  looked  puzzled,  and  asked,  "But 
why  does  he  teach  music  ?  " 

*'  Oh !  he  is  so  fond  of  it,"  rattled  the  unreflecting 
widow.     "Perfectly  enthusiastic." 

"  But  they  lost  the  title,  Lotharinga,"  explained  her 

brother. 

"  No,  they  didn't  lose  it — not  at  all,"  asserted  Lotha- 

ringa. 

"  Yes,  they  did,  centuries  ago,"  insisted  Hedstone. 
"  There's  no  such  title  as  Seigneur  d'Aumale.  It  went 
to  some  other  family,  I'm  not  sure  what  one,  except  that 
it  wasn't  Hedstone." 

"  Was  it  the  house  of  Guise?"  asked  Virginia,  who 
had  just  finished  Macaulay's  "  Battle  of  Ivry,"  and  so 
knew  something  about  the  first  Duke  of  Aumale. 

"  Precisely,"  said  Hedstone,  bowing  with  gay  rev- 
erence to  so  much  learning.  "It  went  to  the  great 
house  of  Guise,  and  became  a  dukedom,  and  is  so  still, 
as  I  remember,  now  that  I  bend  my  mind  to  it." 

"  Wasn't    that    splendid ! "    exclaimed    Mrs.     Fitz 

James. 

«  ^Yell— not  for  the  De  Bethunes  ;  was  it  ?  "  ques- 
tioned Virginia. 

"Whv,  no — come  to  think  of  it — not  for  them," 
laughed  Lotharinga.  "  But  all  the  same,  the  professor 
is  a  noble,  you  see.  And  he  is  such  a  charming  man  ! 
Such  a  refined,  pensive  expression  !  Such  elegant,  soft 
manners  !  You  don't  see  anything  of  exactly  that  type 
in  our  plain  country." 

"  I  assure  you  that  in  South  Carolina—"  began  Mrs. 


172  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

Dumont,  only  to  be  stopped  off  by  that  canary  of  a 
Lotbaringa. 

"  Oh  !  you  must  take  him,  Miss  Beaufort,"  she  twit- 
tered. Then  came  a  bird-like  giggle,  "  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 
I  don't  mean  as  a  husband,  but  as  an  instructor.  Dear 
me,  how  you  blush  ! — How  she  blushes,  Mrs.  Dumont !  I 
would  give  anything  for  such  bewitching  innocence  and 
sensibility." 

'*  Alas  !  "  smiled  the  festive  brother.  "  The  down 
once  gone  from  the  wings  of  the  butterfly — " 

"  Do  hush  your  poetry,  Frank  !  I  never  had  any 
wings  to  speak  of. — Well,  there  is  some  truth  in  it.  It 
hardens  one  awfully.  Miss  Beaufort,  to  get  married. 
You  don't  know  anything  about  it.  —  There  you  go 
blushing  again,  in  the  very  loveliest  fashion  !  South 
Carolina  must  be  a  nunnery,  or  garden  of  Eden,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort." 

"  Lotharinga,  you  would  make  a  statue  blush,"  said 
the  genial  Hedstone. — "Miss  Beaufort,  please  don't 
judge  me  by  my  sister.  I  am  as  full  of  seriousness  as 
she  is  of  frivolity." 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Fitz  James's  expression  bespoke 
meditation.  "  But  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  take 
the  professor,"  she  presently  added,  nodding  her  saucy 
little  head.  "  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't  take  him, 
in  the  full  sense  of  the  word.  You  have  lots  of  money. 
You  could  buy  back  the  title,  or  buy  some  other." 

Virginia's  cheek  flushed  deeply  with  embarrassment, 
and  perhaps  also  with  vexation. 

*'  Now  don't  say  nonsense  !  "  twittered  Mrs.  Fitz. 
"You  can  afford  it,  and  I  can't.  My  dearest  million- 
aire, I  admire  him  excessively  ;  but  I  give  him  up  to 
you,  all  for  his  good." 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  173 

"  I  am  not  a  millionaire,  and  I  don't  propose  to  be  a 
duchess,"  said  Virginia,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  means 
to  close  a  subject. 

"  You  shall  do  just  as  you  please  about  it,"  laughed 
the  undisturbed  Lotharinga.  "Well,  I  have  finished 
my  business.— Come,  Frank,  let  us  go.  You've  got  your 
entree  here  now,  and  you  mustn't  be  tkesome  on  your 
first  call,  as  I  know  you  want  to  be." 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

Two  or  three  days  later  the  Baltimoreans  came 
again  to  smile  and  prattle  in  Virginia's  parlor. 

This  time  Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  diffuse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  that  Colonel  Peyton  whom  she  had  alluded  to  in 
her  last  visit. 

He  was  a  "  perfectly  charming  man,"  she  declared 
and  reiterated.  "  Very  handsome  :  that  is,  not  so  su- 
perhumanly  handsome — not  an  Apollo  Belvedere,  you 
know.  I  really  think  De  Bethune  has  more  classic  feat- 
ures. But  the  Colonel  is  so  noble  in  manner  !  so  full 
of  moral  dignity  !  It  is  enough  to  turn  any  woman's 
head  to  hear  his  noble  talk.  I  won't  try  to  give  you  an 
idea  of  it  ;  I  get  foundered  on  those  subjects  right 
away.  But  what  I  admire  most  is  his  figure  :  just  tall 
enough,  and  so  strong  and  vigorous  !  He's  a  great  deal 
better  built  than  poor  De  Bethune,  whose  legs  are  really 
too  pitiable — made  to  get  about  on,  rather  than  to  look 
at — like  so  many  Frenchmen's.  I  proposed  to  him — 
that  is,  to  the  Colonel,  you  know — to  come  here." 


174  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

Mr.  Hedstone  glanced  sidelong  at  his  sister,  as  if  to 
see  whether  she  were  telling  the  truth  or  not. 

"But  he  seems  shy,"  continued  Lotharinga.  "  Shy 
or  sad.  I  sometimes  think  he  has  a  sorrow  at  heart. 
He  certainly  is  pensive.  I  do  believe  there  is  a  mystery 
about  him — don't  you,  Frank  ?  " 

"  Very  gentlemanly,  intelligent  fellow,  the  Colonel," 
said  Frank,  who  seemed  to  be  a  man  without  jealousy, 
as  well  as  without  sentiment. 

"  Oh  !  what  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  protested  Lo- 
tharinga. "  I  asked  you  if  you  didn't  think  there  was 
a  mystery  about  him.  You've  no  more  poetry  in  you 
than  a  watermelon.  Well,  of  course  he's  gentlemanly 
and  intelligent.  Most  Virginians  are  gentlemen,  and 
all  Peytons,  I  suppose.  It's  a  fine  old  name,  isn't  it  ?  I 
thought  it  had  died  out.  Who  knew  that  there  were 
any  Peytons  left  ?  Well,  I'm  glad  there's  one  extant — 
this  one." 

"  He  may  be  of  a  cadet  branch  of  the  old  stock," 
suggested  Mrs.  Dumont,  in  the  tone  of  a  person  who 
wants  to  seem  to  know  something  of  a  subject.  The 
genealogy  of  patrician  American  families  was  of  course 
a  topic  worthy  of  her  mightiest  intellectual  efforts. 

"  I  really  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  confessed 
Virginia,  seeing  that  Mrs.  Fitz  James's  eyes  wandered 
dreamily  from  her  aunt  to  herself. 

"  Oh  !  well,  it  doesn't  matter  about  family,"  said  Lo- 
tharinga, with  a  levity  which  made  Mrs.  Dumont  stare 
at  her  in  disapproving  amazement.  "  One  can't  care 
much  what  such  a  man's  descent  may  be.  He  bears  his 
pedigree  in  his  face.  There's  only  one  thing  about  him 
I  don't  quite  like.  He  wears  his  hair  drawn  straight 
forward,  and  cut  square  across  his  forehead,  like  the 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  175 

children  in  the  Tower.  It  makes  one  want  to  get  a 
brush  and  comb,  and  set  it  to  rights.  But  it's  such  a 
fascinating  face,  all  the  same  !  I  w^ish  you  could  see 
it.  Blonde  ;  exquisite  complexion  ;  features  handsome 
enough  for  a  man — I  say  ;  long,  yellow  mustache  ;  and 
that  fine,  pensive  air  !  " 

"  Won't  that  do,  Lottie  ?  "  laughed  Bedstone.  "  You 
are  laying  on  the  color  pretty  thick.  I  am  getting  un- 
easy.    Nobody  talks  about  me  in  that  way." 

"  We  speak  favorably  of  you  here,  Mr.  Hedstone," 
said  Mrs.  Dumont,  doing  the  honors  of  the  apartment. 

"  So  glad  ! "  smiled  the  ton  gar^on.  *'  I  hadn't 
hoped  it,  but  I  had  longed  for  it." 

"  Oh  !  I  like  him  better  than  De  Bethune,"  continued 
Lotharinga,  dreamily,  still  referring  to  the  mysterious 
Peyton.  "  On  the  whole,  my  dear  and  too  lovely  Miss 
Beaufort,  I  don't  think  I  shall  bring  him  to  you.  I 
don't  know  what  might  happen." 

"  By-the-way,  we  had  something  to  say  about 
De  Bethune,"  interjected  Hedstone,  who  perhaps 
thought  that  his  sister  prattled  too  much  concerning 
Peyton. 

"  Oh  !  exactly,"  nodded  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  turning  ea- 
gerly in  the  new  direction,  the  volatile  little  canary. 
"  My  dear  Virginia,  I  want  you  to  take  him.  He  knows 
music  as  well  as  your  German,  and  he  doesn't  smell  of 
beer  and  cheese." 

"  I  have  already  parted  from  Herr  Koerner,"  said 
Virginia,  gravely. 

"  Oh  !  something  happened  ?  "  guessed  and  giggled 
Lotharinga.  "  Was  he  too  assiduous  ?  Of  course  he 
was.  Those  professors  are  so  tender  !  I  had  a  regular 
scene  with  one.     He  was  a  Neapolitan.     I  believe  the 


176  THE  BLOODY  GEASM. 

ISTeapolitans  are  particularly  sensible.  Frank  had  to 
be  called  in  to  make  him  go  away. — O  Frank,  what 
fun ! " 

*' Don't  enlarge  upon  it,"  implored  Frank,  blushing 
a  little  for  his  sister.  "Mrs.  Dumont  is  studying 
you." 

"Not  at  all,"  protested  Mrs.  D.,  though  indeed 
she  looked  rather  solemn,  as  if  saying  to  herself  that 
Baltimore  ladies  were  not  Charlestonian.  Then  she 
added,   "I  usually  sit  with  my  niece  during  her  les- 


sons." 


II 


Quite  proper,"  giggled  Mrs.  Fitz.  "  Such  a  face, 
and  such  a  fortune  !     She  needs  watching." 

"I  suppose  Mr.  De  Bethune  speaks  only  French," 
said  Virginia,  who  seemed  a  little  fretted  by  this  babble. 
"  I  don't  yet  know  the  language  so  very  well." 

"  Dear  me  !  didn't  I  tell  you  ?  "  cried  Lotharinga. 
"  He  speaks  English.  His  family  was  loj^al  to  the  Plan- 
tagenets,  and  so  forth,  for  centuries  ;  and  he  says  that 
he  considers  it  the  duty  of  a  De  Bethune  to  know  Eng- 
lish ;  he  said  it  laughing,  to  be  sure,  but  I  think  he 
really  meant  it.  Besides,  he  has  taught  in  England, 
and  among  the  nobility,  too.  Oh  !  he  is  just  what  you 
want,  I  assure  you.     My  dear,  will  you  see  him  ?  " 

"I  think  I  had  better,"  returned  Virginia,  after  a 
glance  at  her  aunt,  who  nodded  affirmatively. 

"  So  glad  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fitz.  "  So  obliged  ! 
I  knew  you  would.  Well,  you  must  get  yourself 
ready  in  soul  to  meet  him,  then.  I  told  him  to  look 
for  me  here.  I  took  that  liberty.  You  must  know 
that  I  always  have  two  or  three  ijroteges.  I  am  one 
of  those  women.  I  can't  help  being  busy — and  use- 
ful, ha,  ha,  ha !      By-the-way,  he  ought   to  be   here. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  177 

Perhaps  he  has  lost  the  address. — Frank,  run  out  and 
see  if  he  is  in  sight." 

Mr.  Hedstone,  with  the  readiness  of  a  man  trained 
to  oblige,  took  his  hat  and  went  forth  on  his  mission. 
Then  there  was  a  conversation  between  the  ladies  con- 
cerning French  society,  receptions  at  court,  and  imperial 
gayeties.  Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  in  the  midst  of  a  story 
of  Compiegne  gossip,  when  Hedstone  reappeared,  ur- 
banely ushering  in  the  noble  teacher  of  music.  He  was 
a  man  of  something  over  thirty,  with  a  handsome  face 
of  the  massive  classic  type,  a  dark  and  healthily  pallid 
complexion,  brilliant  black  eyes,  and  carefully  dressed 
curling  black  hair.  His  figure  displayed  the  broad 
shoulders,  powerful  bust,  and  disproportionately  short, 
slender  legs,  so  common  in  Western  Continental  Europe. 
In  expression  and  manner  he  was  singularly  gentle,  even 
more  so  than  the  honeyed  but  also  more  dignified  Hed- 
stone. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  sprang  up,  shook  hands  with  him 
cordially,  and  presented  him  as  her  dear  professor — her 
trhcher  Seigneur  d'^Aiimale.  Then  she  added  :  "  Come, 
Frank  ;  our  duty  is  done. — Good-by,  my  dear  Virginia  ; 
come  and  see  me  every  day. — Mrs.  Dumont,  please  re- 
member me  oftener. — Au  revoir,  mon  c/ier  Seigneur 
(V  Aiimale.'*'' 

"Ah  !  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  you  are  always  joking," 
smiled  the  Professor  as  he  bowed  her  out. 

The  moment  the  Baltimoreans  had  departed,  Mrs. 
Dumont  turned  with  rustling  graciousness  to  De  Be- 
thune,  and,  making  him  a  salutation  w^hich  might  al- 
most be  called  a  reverence,  begged  him  to  be  seated. 
A  gentleman  whose  blazon  dated  back  to  Richard  the 
Lion-hearted  was  clearly   worthy  of  even   the   distin- 


178  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

guished  consideration  of  a  Beaufort.  "Mrs.  Fitz 
James,"  she  smiled,  "  has  told  us  the  interesting  story 
of  your  high  lineage." 

He  gave  her  a  glance  of  surprise,  but  answered 
readily  and  sweetly,  "The  lineage  may  perhaps  be 
high,  madame,  but  I  personally  am  very  lowly." 

"  Of  course,  all  families  are  liable  to  reverses  of 
fortune,"  said  Mrs.  Dumont,  consolingly.  *  "  We  know 
it  only  too  well.  But  under  any  circumstances  of 
adversity  one  has  a  right  to  be  proud  of  honorable 
descent." 

The  Professor,  who  clearly  did  not  desire  to  talk  of 
his  ancestors,  made  the  best  of  the  situation  by  bow- 


mg. 


"  We  think  a  great  deal  of  these  things  in  South 
Carolina,  sir,"  persisted  the  good  lady. 

"Mrs.  Fitz  James  seems  to  think  a  good  deal  of 
them,"  he  smiled.  "  She  questioned  me  very  sharply 
about  the  prefix  to  my  name.  At  last,  to  amuse  her, 
I  told  her  what  I  know,  or  suppose  I  know,  of  its  origin 
and  its  presumed  founder." 

Virginia,  who  could  not  help  being  interested,  said 
in  a  querying  tone,  "  The  Seigneur  of  Aumale  ?  " 

"  So  I  understand,"  he  replied,  carelessly.  "  Alas  ! 
it  was  six  or  seven  centuries  ago." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  should  assert  myself,"  was 
Mrs.  Dumont's  spirited  counsel. 

"  Pardon  me.  I  have  nothing  to  assert.  It  is  hun- 
dreds of  years  since  there  was  a  title  in  our  branch  of 
the  Bethunes." 

"  But  when  a  gentleman  is  sure  that  he  belongs  to 
an  old  and  noble  French  family  ! "  said  the  worthy 
lady. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  179 

"  Pardon  me  again,"  bowed  the  Professor.  "  It  is 
Flemish.     I  am  a  Belgian." 

"  Oh  !  well,  that  might  make  a  difference,"  hesitated 
the  grande  dame  of  South  Carolina.  The  Beauforts, 
she  of  course  remembered,  were  French,  and  Huguenots 
to  boot. 

"The  highest  title  I  can  claim  is  Professor  of  Mu- 
sic," De  Bethune  continued,  turning  to  Virginia  with 
a  bow  and  a  smile. 

"  Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  very  kind  in  asking  you  to 
call,"  she  replied,  seeing  that  he  positively  did  not  want 
to  discourse  further  of  his  lineage. 

Then  followed  a  practical  and  business-like  conver- 
sation, which  ended  in  engaging  the  descendant  of  the 
Seigneur  d'Aumale  as  a  singing-master.  With  this  re- 
sult he  looked  more  gratified  than  could  fairly  have 
been  expected  of  the  inheritor  of  so  much  grandeeism. 
It  seemed  likely  that  pupils  were  rare  with  him,  and 
revenues  limited.  But  when  Virginia  seated  herself  at 
the  piano  and  gave  him  an  exhibition  of  her  voice,  he 
clearly  forgot  his  own  affairs  in  admiration  and  profes- 
sional enthusiasm. 

"It  is  a  remarkable  organ,"  he  said,  closing  his 
hands  and  bending  toward  her  with  an  air  of  defer- 
ence. "  It  is  a  very  remarkable  organ,"  he  repeated  in 
a  whisper  which  was  nothing  less  than  reverential. 

Aunt  Dumont  bridled  and  rustled  with  family  pride. 
Then  she  remembered  her  patriotism,  and  said,  "  Such 
voices  are  very  common,  I  assure  you,  sir,  in  South 
Carolina." 

De  Bethune  opened  his  eyes  in  wonder,  but  he 
bowed  acquiescence,  all  the  same.  "It  is  a  highly 
favored  region,"  he  replied.    "  I  should  like  to  go  there. 


180  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

By-the-way,  did  you  say  South  Carolina?  I  have  an- 
other pupil  from  that  city." 

"  It  is  a  State,  sir,"  remarked  both  the  ladies  at  once. 

"  Ah,  pardon  me  ;  I  am  ignorant  of  your  geography. 
This  lady  also  has  a  fine  voice — I  don't  think  as  power- 
ful as  Miss  Beaufort's,  but  still  a  very  fine  voice.  Her 
name  is  Macmorran  ;  and  she  is  a  most  agreeable  young 
person — very  nun-like  and  modest." 

The  two  ladies  glanced  at  each  other  with  faces  of 
interrogation  and  of  alarm.  It  was  some  seconds  be- 
fore Mrs.  Dumont  mustered  resolution  enough  to  ask, 
"Is  she  Irish?" 

"  American,  she  told  me,"  stated  De  Bethune. 
"Black  hair  and  very  black  eyes,  just  what  I  supposed 
to  be  American.  Besides,  her  first  name  is — is  Norah, 
which  sounds  American,  surely." 

"  We  are  not  acquainted  with  her,"  said  Mrs.  Du- 
mont. "  She  is  not  in  our  circle,"  she  added,  on  reflec- 
tion. 

Then  there  was  more  music,  and  the  pupil  sang  out 
of  tune — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  the  Professor  looked 
surprised  and  troubled. 

The  moment  he  was  gone,  Virginia  exclaimed, 
"  Kow  the  marriage  will  be  out." 

"  We  can  get  that  girl's  address  and  see  her,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Dumont.  "Perhaps  she  wouldn't  mind 
keeping  your  secret — if  you  want  it  kept." 


I 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  181 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

During  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  Professor  De 
Bethune  was  at  the  apartment  of  Korah  Macmorran. 
It  was  a  single  plain  room,  musty  in  atmosphere  and 
scanty  in  furniture,  with  a  bed  more  or  less  hidden  in  a 
curtained  alcove  ;  one  of  those  horrible  ambushes  where 
nightmares  lie  in  wait  for  the  sleeper.  Before  a  piano 
sat  Xorah,  just  finishing  a  piece  of  music,  and  looking 
up  anxiously  at  her  teacher  with  the  query,  "  Was  that 
better,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  in  his  habitual  tone  and  manner  of 
gentle  deference.  "  It  was  not  only  better,  but  it  was 
exceedingly  well." 

A  smile  of  joy  forced  its  way  into  the  seriousness 
and  plaintiveness  of  ISTorah's  face.  "  Oh,  sir  !  "  she  re- 
plied, coloring  slightly,  "  I  am  so  glad  !  " 

"  You  are  very  anxious  to  be  a  great  singer  ? "  he 
asked,  smiling  also,  very  sympathetically  and  kindly. 

"I  am  anxious  to  earn  my  living,  sir." 

"  You  are  a  high-minded  young  lady,"  he  said,  with 
an  air  of  surprise  and  admiration. 

"  How  could  I  wish  not  to  earn  my  living,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  alluded  to  the  avowal  of  poverty.  It  isn't  every- 
body who  is  brave  enough  and  self-respectful  enough  to 
avow  that." 

"I  have  always  been  poor.  I  am  used  to  it.  I 
never  was  so  well  off  before  as  during  this  year." 

"  Ah  !  you  have  had  a  stroke  of  good  fortune  ?  Per- 
haps there  will  be  more.     You  deserve  them." 

"It  is  the  Church,  sir.     The  Church  is  supporting 


182  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

me  here — the  congregation  of  St.  Patrick's,  in  Charles- 
ton." 

"I  have  another  pupil  from  Charleston — a  very 
beautiful  voice,  too — a  Miss  Beaufort." 

Norah,  who  had  been  gazing  at  the  floor  during  most 
of  this  dialogue,  raised  her  eyes  with  an  expression  of 
startled  inquiry. 

"  She  is  with  her  aunt,  a  Mrs.  Dumont,"  continued 
De  Bethune.     "  Did  you  ever  hear  of  them  ?  " 

"Miss  Beaufort?"  asked  Norah,  her  face  a  little 
paler  than  usual,  and  her  eyes  drooped  again. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  name.  Did  you  ever  hear  her 
sing  ?  " 

"No,  sir,"  murmured  Norah.  She  remained  silent 
a  moment,  and  then  timorously  queried,  "  Is  the  aunt 
Mrs.  Dumont  ?  " 

"As  I  told  you — Mrs.  Dumont  and  Miss  Beaufort. 
I  hope  you  will  hear  the  young  lady  some  day  ;  it  is  a 
great  pleasure." 

"And  does  Mrs.  Dumont  call  her  niece  Miss  Beau- 
fort ?  "  persisted  the  puzzled  and  troubled  girl. 

"  She  calls  her  Virginia.  There  is  an  old  negress  in 
the  family  who  calls  her  Miss  Ginny.  But  the  name  is 
Beaufort ;  I  know  it  from  the  people  who  presented  me 
there  ;  moreover,  she  answers  to  it." 

"  Oh,  perhaps  it  is  a  sister,"  Norah  thought,  aloud. 

"Whose  sister?  Pardon  me.  I  fail  to  compre- 
hend." 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  embarrassed  reply.  "  Per- 
haps these  are  not  the  ladies.  Is  she  very — hand- 
some ?  " 

"  Quite  beautiful.  You  will  see  her,  I  hope.  I  took 
the  liberty  of  mentioning  you  to  them,  and  they  seemed 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  183 

interested.  Last  evening,  too,  I  received  a  message 
from  Mrs.  Dumont,  asking  for  your  address.  I  pre- 
sume that  they  purpose  calling." 

"  Calling  ?  "  repeated  ISTorah,  in  unconcealable  worry. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  annoyed  you,"  said  De  Bethune. 
*'  They  are  really  ladies,  and  moreover  very  agreeable 
ladies,  especially  the  younger.     I  am  sure  you  will  like 

them." 

"And   there  is   no— gentleman ? "   asked   the   girl, 

anxiously. 

"Not  one,"  he  smiled.  "You  are  very  shy,  Miss 
Macmorran.     I  admire  you  none  the  less  for  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  murmured  Norah,  with  frank  and 
sweet  simplicity,  though  she  still  seemed  occupied  and 
intimidated. 

"  You  don't  fear  me  ?  "  added  De  Bethune,  in  a  tone 
of  almost  tender  inquiry. 

"You  were  recommended  to  me  by  the  convent," 
the  girl  answered,  blushing.     "  Besides,  I  must  see  you." 

"I  am  glad  you  must,"  he  said,  gazing  at  her  with 
obvious  admiration. 

"  They  are  very  grand  people  in  their  own  country," 
resumed  Norah.     "I  don't  see  why  they  must  call  on 

me." 

She  looked  appealingly  at  De  Bethune  here,  as  if 
hoping  that  he  would  be  her  friend  in  the  matter,  and 
prevent  the  dreaded  interview. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  an  artist  is  an  artist,"  he  said, 
cheeringly.  "Miss  Beaufort  is  apparently  a  very  su- 
perior young  person,  and  no  doubt  has  the  respect  of 
talent  for  talent.  She  treated  me,  a  poor  professor  of 
music,  with  courtesy  and  kindness.  I  think  you  may 
look  forward  with  composure  to  meeting  her." 


18i  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

Then  a  gentle  rap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  he  in- 
quired with  a  bow,  "  You  permit  me  to  open  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  whispered  Norah,  visibly  dis- 
quieted and  apprehensive.  Her  naturally  pale  face 
turned  completely  colorless  when  De  Bethune  gave  en- 
trance to  Mrs.  Dumont,  and  that  stately  dame,  rustling 
in  stiff  silken  raiment,  marched  up  to  her  with  an  out- 
stretched glove. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again.  Miss  Macmorran,"  said 
the  unwelcome  visitor,  with  one  of  those  counterfeit 
smiles  which  we  all  know  so  well.  "The  moment  I 
heard  of  your  being  here,  I  determined  to  call." 

Norah  had  risen,  and  she  took  the  proffered  hand  ; 
but  her  lips  merely  moved  and  quivered  when  she  tried 
to  speak. 

"  I  want  you  to  be  acquainted  with  my  niece,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Dumont,  in  a  hurried,  embarrassed  tone, 
for  the  interview  agitated  her  also.  "  You  and  she  have 
the  same  tastes.  Mr.  De  Bethune  has  told  us  of  your 
beautiful  voice  and  execution. — They  ought  to  sing 
together,  oughtn't  they,  Mr.  De  Bethune  ?  " 

The  Professor  assented  in  a  few  complimentary  words, 
and  then,  after  a  puzzled  glance  at  Norah's  discomposed 
countenance,  made  his  urbane  adieus,  and  vanished. 

Under  the  pressure  of  extreme  necessity  the  girl  now 
regained  her  powers  of  speech.  She  hastily  dusted  a 
chair  with  her  handkerchief,  offered  it  meekly  to  the 
visitor,  and  murmured,  "  AYon't  you  sit  down,  ma'am  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont  seated  herself  and  drew  a  long  breath. 
Her  respiration  was  affected  by  the  ascent  of  several 
stairways,  and  by  the  worrying  nature  of  the  business 
in  hand.  Of  course,  she  remembered  her  suspicions  that 
there  had  been  a  love-affair,  and  apparently  a  soul-stir- 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  185 

ring  one,  between  this  young  woman  and  the  husband 
of  her  niece.  Of  course,  too,  she  was  not  quite  sure 
that  the  entanglement,  whatever  it  might  amount  to, 
liad  not  continued  to  the  present  time.  For  all  she  knew 
to  the  contrary.  Underbill  might  even  now  be  in  Paris, 
and  still  devoted,  in  some  fashion  or  other,  to  Miss  Mac- 
morran.  Yet  about  him  she  must  perforce  talk,  and 
against  him  she  must  declaim  and  plead.  She  must  ask, 
too,  for  a  favor  which  she  did  not  fully  desire.  She 
must  implore  secrecy  for  Virginia's  marriage,  when  at 
heart  she  felt  that  such  secrecy  was  wrong,  and  more 
than  doubted  whether  it  were  even  worldly-wise. 

"My  dear — I  came  partly  on  business — I  want  a 
kindness  of  you,"  she  began,  hesitatingly.  "  You  know 
who  I  am  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  was  the  meek  reply. 

"  You  heard,  I  believe,  of  my  niece's  intended  mar- 
riage ?  "  (ISTorah  nodded  slightly.)  "  To  a  Mr.  Under- 
bill?" (Another  poor  little  nod.)  "There  were  cir- 
cumstances which  enforced  the  marriage,"  continued 
Mrs.  Dumoht,  with  a  sigh.  "  But  they  could  not  make 
it  pleasant — you  hear  me  ?  " 

Norah's  eyes  had  been  on  the  floor,  but  she  raised 
them  an  instant  and  gasped,  "  Yes." 

"  Ah  !  dear — it  was  a  sad  marriage — a  funeral,"  Mrs. 
Dumont  sighed  again,  recollecting,  no  doubt,  the  black- 
crape  dress  and  the  darkened  church.  "  I  hardly  know 
how  to  go  on.  But  the  long  and  short  of  it  is,  that  they 
couldn't  live  together  ;  they  separated  immediately." 

Norah  lifted  a  pair  of  astonished  eyes,  and  a  flood 
of  color  rushed  into  her  cheeks.  There  was  something 
like  a  passion  of  resuscitated  hope  in  the  gesture  and 
expression  ;  but  it  was  trampled  out  immediately  by  con- 


186  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

science  or  reason,  and  the  face  became  as  nun-like  as 
before. 

"It  was  not  a  divorce,"  explained  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"It  couldn't  be  a  divorce — only  a  separation.  Well, 
they  are  living  apart ;  that  is  the  whole  of  it.  I  thought 
it  best  to  tell  you  everything." 

ISTorah  said  nothing,  but  she  glanced  piteously  at  her 
visitor's  face,  and  the  look  seemed  to  ask,  "  Why  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  keep  our  secret,"  resumed  the  elder 
lady.  "  You  will  do  us  a  favor,  a  very  great  favor,  if 
you  will  not  mention  the  marriage." 

"  What  ! "  said  the  amazed  girl,  startled  into  the 
power  of  speech.     "  Do  you  mean  7iever  f  " 

"  Not  for  some  time — ^not  while  you  are  in  Paris — 
unless  we  advise  you  to  the  contrary." 

Norah  pondered  a  moment,  and  then  replied,  hesi- 
tatingly, "  I  think  I  can  promise  you." 

"  Oh  !  do,"  urged  Mrs.  Dumont,  in  the  faint  tone  of 
one  who  implores  with  a  doubting  conscience.  "  Thank 
you,  my  dear.  We  shall  be  under  great  obligations. 
If  we  can  ever  do  you  any  kindness  in  return — " 

"  I  need  nothing,"  said  Norah,  supposing  that  money 
favors  were  meant — the  natural  supposition  of  a  child 
of  poverty.  "  But  I  will  promise — since  you  wish  it 
so  much." 

"Indeed  we  do  !  And  now  you  must  call  on  us," 
added  the  grande  dame  with  an  effort.  "  By-the-way, 
please  remember  to  speak  to  my  niece  always  as  Miss 
Beaufort,  or  Virginia.  She  prefers  her  own  name,  un- 
der the  circumstances.  I  don't  know  that  you  can  blame 
her  for  loving  it.  It  is  an  honorable  name.  You  may 
be  sure  that  she  will  bear  it  worthily.  She  has  no  mean 
or  unworthy  purpose  in  this  secrecy — only  safety  from 


THE  BLOODY  Off  ASM.  1S7 

persecution,  and  tranquillity.  So  we  can  rely  upon  you 
can  we  ?  You  will  not  allude  to  the  marriage,  nor  men- 
tion that  dreaded  name  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  ma'am  !  "  said  Norah,  with  an  earnestness 
which  confessed  that  the  name  was  a  terrible  one  to  her 
also. 

Mrs.  Duraont  glanced  at  her  significantly  ;  she  in 
part  comprehended  the  girl's  emotion.  But  it  would  not 
do  to  inquire  strictly,  or  in  fact  to  inquire  at  all,  into 
the  causes  of  it. 

*'  I  shouldn't  want  even  Mr.  De  Bethune  to  know  of 
the  marriage,"  she  added,  reverting  to  her  own  proper 
affair. 

"  I  won't  mention  it  to  him,  nor  to  any  one." 

"  So  much  obliged  to  you.  Miss  Macmorran  !  "  smiled 
the  lady  of  the  old  regime.  "  Well,  now — '*  Here  she 
hesitated  a  moment ;  she  was  going  to  say  a  very  great 
thing — "  now  you  must  be  our  friend,"  she  concluded, 
with  heroic  resolution. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Dumont,"  stammered  Norah. 
"  I  suppose,"  she  presently  continued,  "  that  he  never 
comes  there  ?  " 

"  He  ?  Who  ?  Do  you  mean  her  husband  ?  No 
indeed,  never  !  She  trusts  never  to  meet  him  again  in 
this  world.  Well,  now,  I  am  so  glad  I  called  on  you  ! 
You  must  be  our  friend  ;  you  must  call  and  see  us,"  re- 
peated Mrs.  Dumont,  firmly.  "  Will  you  come  and  sing 
with  Virginia  to-morrow — at  three,  say  ?  " 

Norah,  who  would  have  given  a  world  to  refuse, 
tried  to  show  some  willingness,  and  did  succeed  in 
forcing  a  piteous  smile  as  she  answered,  "  Yes,  Mrs. 
Dumont." 

Then  the  visitor,  drawing  a  long  sigh,  as  if  she  had 


188  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

performed  a  very  distressing  duty  indeed,  gathered  her- 
self rustling  out  of  her  chair  and  blandly  took  her  de- 
parture. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

We  shall  obtain  light  upon  some  of  the  personages 
and  circumstances  of  this  history  by  going  back  to  Mrs. 
Fitz  James  and  her  brother  at  the  moment  of  their  exit 
from  Virginia's  parlor. 

The  genial  and  chatty  couple  had  scarcely  closed  the 
Beaufort  door  behind  them,  when  Hedstone  turned 
petulantly  upon  his  sister,  and  demanded,  "What  are 
you  throwing  that  girl  at  that  Belgian's  head  for  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  I  wouldn't  do  it,  Frank,  if  anything  bet- 
ter could  be  done,"  whispered  Lotharinga,  eagerly  and 
placatingly.  "  But  what  can  ^oic  do,  with  a  wife  in 
America?  If  you  could  get  a  divorce — if  there  was 
any  chance  of  it—"  She  hesitated  si  little,  and  then 
asked,  "76' there?" 

Mr.  Bedstone's  intonation  was  quite  surly  as  he  an- 
swered, "ISTot  on  mi/  side."  After  pondering  a  mo- 
ment he  added,  still  more  surlily,  "  My  wife  could  get 
one — and  won't." 

"  O  Frank  !  don't  go  on  with  the  subject,"  said  the 
sister,  flinching  and  coloring.  "  It's  not  pleasant  to  hear 
about.  I  don't  see  how  you  could  be  so  imprudent  as 
to  put  yourself  entirely  in  the  wrong.  It  always  was 
so.     There's  ill-luck  in  our  family." 

"  Your  own  match  doesn't  appear  to  have  been  made 
in   heaven,  my  poor  sister,"  returned  Hedstone.     The 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  189 

speech  and  the  tone  in  which  it  was  uttered  were  ur- 
bane enough  ;  but  either  Lotharinga  had  an  evil  con- 
science, or  she  habitually  expected  sarcasm  from  her 
brother  ;  she  flinched  and  colored  again. 

"Mr.  Fitz  James  was  a  great  sufferer,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  I've  no  doubt  it  was  a  relief  to  him  to  get 
off  his  bed  and  into  his  grave." 

Hedstone  laughed  outright.  "I  rather  think  so," 
he  said.     "  Poor  old  fool !  what  a  time  he  had  of  it !  " 

"  I  had  a  hard  time,  too,"  gasped  the  widow,  ready 
to  cry  with  humiliation  and  anger.  "  I  think  you  ought 
to  have  pitied  me,  especially  when  you  had  crowded  me 
into  it — the  whole  family  coaxing,  and  crowding,  and 
bullying  !  " 

"  Well,  it  icas  pitiable,"  conceded  the  brother. 
"  What  can  a  young  lassie  do  wi'  an  auld  man  ?  You 
deserve  every  cent  you  got  by  it. — But  now,  as  for 
this  Beaufort  affair,  what  are  you  driving  at?  The 
girl  could  do  better  than  take  De  Bethune.  She  could 
have  Peyton,  for  instance,"  he  added,  with  a  malicious 
smile. 

Lotharinga  tossed  her  small  head  defiantly,  some- 
thing like  a  pretty  heifer  that  threatens  hostilities.  "  I 
don't  know  whether  she  could  or  not,"  she  said.  "  He 
isn't  so  easy  to  catch  with  mere  money.  He  has  enough 
of  his  own,  I  think." 

She  pondered  a  bit,  glanced  at  him  investigatingly, 
and  continued  :  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I  am  driving  at. 
Miss  Beaufort  is  a  millionaire,  and  De  Bethune  is  of 
noble  descent.  If  they  get  married,  and  she  can  man- 
age to  buy  a  title  for  him,  then  we  shall  know  at  least 
one  noble.  That  will  be  a  beginning.  We  shall  get 
into  the  aristocratic  circle." 


190  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Oh  !  I  see,"  grinned  Frank  ;  "  and  then  you  can 
make  a  strike  for  yourself.  Well,  it  may  work — by 
bare  possibility.  She  can't  buy  a  title,  but  she  can  buy 
an  estate,  and  that  may  bring  a  courtesy  title.  It  may 
work.     I  won't  try  to  hinder." 

"  Don't,  Frank  !  We  don't  want  any  more  gabble 
and  scandal  about  the  Hedstones." 

By  this  time  they  had  got  out  of  the  house  and 
reached  Lotharinga's  coupe.  Hedstone  helped  his  sister 
into  the  vehicle  with  an  air  of  affectionate  deference, 
and  touched  his  hat  in  response  to  her  lively  and  good- 
natured  smile  of  farewell.  One  would  have  said  that 
he  was  one  of  the  best  and  sweetest  of  brothers. 

Then  he  picked  up  a  cab  and  drove  to  unknown  re- 
gions. If  he  played  there,  as  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he 
did,  his  ventures  were  probably  fortunate,  for  when  he 
appeared  in  Lotharinga's  rooms,  some  three  days  later, 
he  was  in  high  good-humor,  and  his  banter  was  all  of 
the  pleasant  sort.  In  actual  fact,  and  notwithstand- 
ing his  occasional  bitterness  and  sarcasm,  he  seemed  to 
be  at  bottom  a  fairly  loyal  and  affectionate  relative, 
and  rather  proud  of  his  sister's  prettiness  and  small 
clevernesses. 

"  What  are  you  up  to  now,  old  lady  ? "  he  asked, 
watching  her  with  a  smile  as  she  stood  before  a  pier- 
glass,  carefully  arranging  a  rose-bud  in  her  black  hair. 
"Who  are  you  setting  that  trap  for?  Is  it  still  the 
Colonel  ?  " 

"  Mind  your  own  business,  Frank." 

*'  Thank  Heaven,  I  haven't  any  !  " 

"  It's  such  a  shame,  in  a  man  ! " 

"  It's  no  stigma  in  Paris,  and  not  much  of  a  one  in 
Baltimore." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  191 

"  You  perfectly  pester  me  with  hanging  around  my 
rooms.     I  wish  I  wasn't  so  agreeable." 

"  Dear  old  lady  !  you  don't  mean  to  be.  You  sim- 
ply can't  help  it.  You  are  so  amusing  that  it  makes 
you  agreeable  in  spite  of  yourself." 

"It  must  be  a^rfully  amusing  to  sit  and  gape  at 
one's  own  sister.  You  must  be  hard  up  for  amuse- 
ment." 

"  I  see.  There's  somebody  coming  this  morning, 
and  you  want  me  out  of  the  way." 

"  Go  and  watch  some  other  woman — do  !  Go  and  sit 
up  with  Miss  Beaufort." 

"  I  thought  you  didn't  want  me  to  sit  up  with  her." 

"  Of  course,  not  on  your  own  account,  Frank.  But 
you  might  talk  with  her  about  De  Bethune,  and  say  a 
good  word  for  him." 

"  Oh  !  that  never  will  come  to  anything.  The  girl  is 
green  and  uncultivated,  and  rather  heavy  company  ; 
but  she  is  solid  and  sensible,  and  devilish  aristocratic, 
too  ;  she's  not  going  to  snap  at  a  poor  professor  of  mu- 
sic ;  it  doesn't  stand  to  reason." 

"He's  there  every  day;  and  that  tells.  And  he's 
begun  to  adore  her  ;  and  that  tells.  And  they're  mad 
about  music  together  ;  and  that  will  tell.  I  think 
the  marriage  is  very  likely  to  come  about,  and  I 
know  it's  our  policy  to  help  it  along.  Do,  for  pity's 
sake,  go  and  see  her,  and  say  something  handsome 
about  him ! " 

"  Yes  :  you  want  me  to  be  off ;  want  the  deck 
cleared  for  action — passengers  go  below.  Who  is  it? 
If  it's  the  right  man,  I'll  vanish.     Is  it  Peyton  ?  " 

"  What  if  it  is  ?  " 

"Oh,  well,  if  it's  the  Colonel,  I'll  oblige  you.     I've 


192  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

fallen  in  love  witli  Peyton  myself.  I'd  rather  have  you 
snare  Peyton  than  all  the  other  twenty." 

"  What  twenty  ?  "  demanded  Lotharinga,  pettishly. 

"  Why,  the  twenty  men  of  all  nations — Americans, 
and  Englishmen,  and  Frenchmen  ;  Parthians,  and 
Medes,  and  Elamites — w^hom  you  are  trifling  with  at 
present." 

"Don't  be  a  bore,  Frank.  There's  nothing  funny 
about  such  exaggerations — what  people  call  American 
humor.  I  haven't  above  five  or  six  men  on  hand  ;  and 
they  are  trying  to  flirt  with  me — not  I  with  them." 

"Yes,  it  was  the  lamb  which  troubled  the  water, 
and  not  the  wolf,"  returned  Hedstone,  soberly.  Appar- 
ently, he  would  have  preferred  that  his  sister  should 
coquette  less  and  with  fewer  men. 

"  Now  do  be  amiable,  Frank,  and  clear  out,"  urged 
Lotharinga,  beginning  to  look  cross. 

"  Of  course,  I  will,"  answered  Frank,  his  smile  re- 
turning. "  If  it  is  the  Colonel,  he  sha'n't  be  interfered 
with.  Not  only  will  I  go  out,  but  I'll  stand  in  the  hall, 
and  keep  everybody  else  from  coming  in." 

"Frank,  if  you  do!  Why,  it  would  be  just  eaves- 
droj^ping.  Just  go  entirely  away,  and  don't  stop  till 
you  find  Miss  Beaufort." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  rap  on  the  door.  Red- 
stone stepped  to  it  in  his  quick,  feline  way,  opened  it 
and  presented  his  hand  with  a  smile.  The  hand  Avas 
taken  by  a  person  well  known  to  us — the  gentleman 
who  had  married  Virginia  Beaufort — no  other  than 
Harry  Edwards  Underhill.  He  looked  precisely  as  we 
have  hitherto  seen  him,  except  that  his  blonde  hair  was 
combed  straight  down  on  all  sides  and  cut  across  his 
forehead  in  a  "  banger,"  and  that  in  place  of  his  usual 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  193 

fashionable  morning  suit  he  wore  a  frock-coat,  vest,  and 
trousers  of  "  Confederate  gray." 

"  So  glad  to  see  you,  Colonel  Peyton  ! "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Fitz  James,  rushing  forward  with  a  cheerful  blush 
and  sparkling  of  the  eyes.  "  So  very  kind  of  you  to 
remember  your  promise  ! " 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Fitz  James,"  said  Underhill,  tran- 
quilly. "It  is  a  kindness  to  myself. — Mr.  Hedstone, 
how  are  you  ?  " 

"Please  excuse  my  brother  for  leaving  you,"  put  in 
Lotharinga,  hastily.  "  He  has  pressing  business  on  hand. 
— Frank,  remember  my  directions." 

"All  right,"  smiled  Frank,  picking  up  his  hat. — 
"  Good-by,  Colonel ;  see  you  again  soon." 

Hedstone  out  of  the  way,  conversation  opened  viva- 
ciously between  Mrs.  Fitz  James  and  Underhill,  espe- 
cially on  the  part  of  the  lady.  It  soon  appeared  that 
the  acquaintance  was  the  result  of  a  chance  meeting  at 
the  Louvre  ;  that  it  was  already  sufficiently  advanced 
to  admit  of  easy  and  almost  confidential  intercourse  ; 
that  Lotharinga  had  not  the  least  suspicion  of  her  visit- 
or's being  other  than  Colonel  Peyton  and  a  Virginian  ; 
and  that  she  was,  to  say  the  least,  very  eager  to  monop- 
olize and  fascinate  him. 

"  Where  were  you  yesterday  ?  "  she  demanded,  in  a 
tone  of  amiable  reproof.  "  If  I  hadn't  met  you  by  mere 
accident  at  Galignani's,  I  should  have  passed  twenty- 
four  hours  without  seeing  you." 

"  The  terrible  misfortune  !  "  he  laughed.  "  I  was 
amusing  myself  with  Paris.     It  is  very  alluring." 

"  Isn't  it  lovely  !  isn't  it  immense  !  "  exclaimed  Lo- 
tharinga.    "  Oh,  if  Americans  knew  ! — they  would  all 
come  here.     But  then  it  would  cease  to  be  attractive." 
9 


194  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Not  if  they  were  all  like — "  And  here  he  made  a 
bow  to  her,  smiling  the  while,  however,  in  a  light  way, 
as  if  to  say.  Don't  take  me  too  seriously. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  pay  compliments,"  murmured 
the  pretty  little  widow,  with  a  smile  of  real  pleasure. 
"You  should  have  some  nice  ones.  Colonel  Peyton. 
As  it  is,  you  must  be  content  with  a  nosegay." 

She  took  the  rose-bud  from  her  hair,  leaned  toward 
him,  and  coquettishly  put  it  in  his  button-hole,  lingering 
contentedly  over  her  task,  looking  up  at  him  with  a 
smile  and  saying  softly,  "I  am  so  awkward  about 
it!" 

"  You  have  probably  had  so  little  practice,"  he  an- 
swered, watching  her  curiously  and  good-naturedly. 

*'  Satirical  man  ! "  laughed  Lotharinga,  though  she 
blushed,  too.  "  Who  would  have  thought  of  drawing 
satire  from  a  Virginian  ?  I  weakly  believed  that  they 
were  serious." 

"So  they  are.  I  solemnly  return  thanks  for  this 
embellishment." 

"  No,  you  don't.  You  think  I  do  such  things  for 
other  people.  That  is  the  first  posy  that  I  have  put  in 
a  button-hole  for  years." 

"  Poor,  neglected  button-holes  ! "  he  smiled.  Then,  as 
if  the  subject  had  received  attention  enough,  he  added 
in  a  careless  tone  :  "  How  do  you  pass  &,11  your  time, 
Mrs.  Fitz  James  ?     Do  you  find  any  society  in  Paris  ?  " 

"  I  care  so  little  for  it !  "  sighed  the  widow.  "  My 
tastes  are  very  domestic.  Of  course,  there  is  something 
in  the  social  way — imperial  receptions,  and  balls,  and 
that  sort  of  thing  ;  you  know  we  Americans  can't  get 
into  the  Saint-Germain  circle — poky  old  decayed  aris- 
tocrats ! " 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  195 

"  But  there  is  an  American  colony,  isn't  there  ?  " 

"Too  many  Yankees — nearly  all  Yankees.  Of 
course,  you  hate  Yankees." 

"  I  hardly  like  tip  say  that  I  do,"  returned  Underhill, 
with  a  smile  which  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  of  course,  failed  to 
understand. 

"  Oh  !  you  are  a  soldier,"  said  the  lady,  glancing  with 
flattering  eyes  at  his  gray  coat.  "  I  believe  the  soldiers 
are  the  most  thoroughly  reconstructed  part  of  the 
Southern  population." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  Mrs.  Fitz  James.  But,  to  quit  that 
painful  subject  and  return  to  Paris,  are  there  no  South- 
em  families  here — none  from  the  Confederate  States  ?  " 

"  Oh,  so  very  few  ! "  Lotharinga  sighed,  as  if  the 
fact  grieved  her  not  a  little.  "  I  suppose  they  are  all 
broken  in  fortune,  and  can't  travel.  I  don't  know  of  a 
single  family  from  Virginia." 

Underhill  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  added  in  a 
querying  tone,  but  quite  tranquilly,  "  I  heard  the  other 
day  of  a  Mrs.  Dumont  and  her  niece." 

The  widow  gave  him  a  furtive  glance,  which,  in- 
stantaneous as  it  was,  revealed  suspicion  and  alarm. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  instant  which  followed  Underbill's  slight  but 
no  doubt  interrogative  allusion  to  his  wife  was  a  troub- 
led one  to  both  him  and  Mrs.  Fitz  James. 

For  reasons  mysterious  to  her,  though  of  course 
comprehensible  to  us,  he  colored  and  looked  uneasy  un- 


196  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

der  her  transient  glance  of  investigation.  She,  on  her 
part,  had  a  discomforted,  fictitious  smile,  and,  when  she 
answered  him,  spoke  with  a  really  childlike,  pitiful  ea- 
gerness, all  showing  that,  coquette  though  she  might  be, 
she  was  a  loving  little  woman  at  bottom,  and  had  already- 
become  tenderly  interested  in  her  colonel. 

"  They  are  not  from  Virginia,"  she  said,  hastily. 
"  They  are  South  Carolinians — of  the  old-fashioned  sort, 
you  know— awfully  prim  and  reserved." 

The  information  did  not  seem  to  disturb  the  visitor  ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  had  the  air  of  being  relieved  and 
gratified.  "  I  know  the  type,"  he  responded  in  a  low, 
meditative  tone.  "  By-the-way,  what  is  the  name  of 
the  niece  ?  " 

"  Beaufort — Miss  Virginia  Beaufort,"  stated  Mrs. 
Fitz  James,  and  immediately  asked,  "  Have  you  ever  met 
her  ?  " 

Underhill  did  not  answer  her  question  ;  he  was  gaz- 
ing at  her  in  grave  surprise.  "  Beaufort  ?  "  he  interro- 
gated, his  cheek  reddening  again.  Then,  recovering  his 
automatic  utterance  and  manner,  he  added,  "  I  thought 
I  had  heard  of  her  by  another  name." 

*'  Beaufort — Miss  Virginia  Beaufort.  Have  you  ever 
met  her  ?  "  persisted  Lotharinga. 

"  As  I  was  saying,  I  have  heard  of  them,"  said  Un- 
derhill, evasively.  "  "What  sort  of  a  person  is  Miss 
Beaufort  ?     Reserved,  you  say  ?  " 

Considering  that  he  was  inquiring  about  his  own 
wife,  and  had  just  learned  the  unpleasant  fact  that  she 
had  dropped  her  marriage  name,  the  question  was  put 
with  wonderful  tranquillity  of  manner.  Nevertheless, 
he  could  not  quite  deceive  the  bright  eyes  of  the  expe- 
rienced flirt  who  sat  beside  him,  and  who  was  watching 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  197 

him  with  an  attention  acute  enough  to  overhear  his  very 
heart-beats. 

"  Really,  Colonel  Peyton,  you  are  greatly  interested," 
she  giggled  uneasily.  "  I  think  you  must  have  seen  her. 
Have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

Then  Underhill  judged  it  best  to  admit  that  she  had 
been  pointed  out  to  him  by  a  friend. 

'^  I  think  she  is  perfectly  lovely — don't  you  f  "  added 
Lotharinga,  artfully. 

He  dropped  his  eyes  pensively,  as  if  he  were  recall- 
ing the  darkened  church  and  his  veiled  bride,  and  re- 
sponded in  a  dreamy  way,  "  I  didn't  see  her  very  plain- 
ly." 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  could  not  suppress  a  little  smile  of 
satisfaction.  Then  she  qualified  her  statement  as  to 
Virginia's  loveliness  by  subjoining  that  some  people 
thought  her  handsome,  and  others  not.  "She  doesn't 
know  anything,"  was  the  next  bit  of  information.  "  She 
grew  up  in  South  Carolina  during  the  war.  Xo  school- 
ing ;  no  accomplishments  ;  no  habits  of  society  ;  no  sub- 
jects of  conversation — excepting,  of  course,  the  war — 
that  everlasting  war." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,"  muttered  Underhill, 
who  was  in  reality  sorry,  as  we  may  imagine. 

"  Oh,  well,  perhaps  I  am  a  little  hard  on  her,"  re- 
sumed Mrs.  Fitz  James,  at  bottom  a  good-natured  crea- 
ture.. "  She  is  studying  French  and  paying  attention  to 
music.     She  is  trying  to  learn  something." 

"  Music  ? "  queried  Underhill,  who  was,  as  we  re- 
member, an  adorer  of  the  melodious  art. 

"  Yes,  that's  her  strong  point  ;  she  sings  pretty  well 
for  a  novice." 

"  I  am  exceedingly  fond  of  singing,"  said  the  Colonel 


198  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

in  a  wishful  tone,  which  was  equivalent  to  asking  an  in- 
troduction to  Miss  Beaufort. 

Apparently  Lotharinga  took  alarm  again.  "  Oh  !  are 
you  ?  "  she  answered,  sweetly.  "  Then  you  ought  to  hear 
Miss  Macmorran.      I'll  present  you  to  ]Miss  Macmor- 

ran." 

"Miss  Macmorran ?"  repeated  Underhill,  no  doubt 

considerably  dismayed. 

"  Yes  !  Miss  Norah  Macmorran.  I  met  her  at  the 
Beaufort  rooms.  They  seem  to  be  quite  friendly.  It's 
rather  curious.  She's  Irish,  of  course,  Miss  Macmorran 
is.  It's  rather  curious  they  should  be  acquainted  with 
her.  By-the-way,  I  don't  know  that  they  are  so  very 
intimate,"  added  the  hasty  and  heedless  little  prattler, 
suddenly  recollecting  the  facts  of  the  case.  "  I've  only 
seen  her  there  once,  and  that  was  yesterday.  But  she 
sang  for  us  ;  and  oh  !  it  was  lovely — very  well  done  in- 
deed. I  must  look  Miss  Macmorran  up  and  present  you. 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  her  ?  She's  preparing  for  the 
opera,  I  suppose.  I  didn't  know  but  you  might  have 
heard  of  her.  Gentlemen  sometimes  keep  track  of  these 
professionals,  don't  they  ?  " 

Underhill  seemed  absent-minded,  and  made  no  di- 
rect response.  Presently  he  resumed,  "  I  suppose  you 
have  heard  Miss  Beaufort  sing  ?  " 

**  Well,  I  believe  I  have,"  said  Lotharinga,  doubt- 
fully, as  if  she  were  sounding  her  memory.  *'  Oh  !  yes, 
of  course  I  have — it  made  no  great  impression.  Do 
you  know.  Colonel  Peyton,  that  you  have  asked  me  a 
good  many  questions  as  to  Miss  Beaufort  ?  You  are  be- 
witched about  her  ;  yes,  you  are."  After  a  moment  of 
watching  him  and  pondering,  she  continued,  "  You  are 
not  the  only  one." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  199 

"I  never  spoke  to  her,  and  never  saw  lier  face,"  af- 
firmed the  Colonel,  not  quite  suppressing  his  uneasiness. 

"  Very  likely.  She  always  goes  veiled,  and  generally 
in  her  coupe.  But  you  have  seen  enough  of  her — some 
remarkably  pretty  costume,  perhaps — enough  to  fasci- 
nate you." 

*'  That  is  enough  sometimes,"  admitted  Underhill, 
though  he  seemed  puzzled,  probably  at  the  feminine 
stress  laid  on  the  word  costume. 

"You  are  not  the  only  one,"  repeated  Mrs.  Fitz 
James. 

The  husband  could  not  help  looking  interested  in 
this  bit  of  news  about  his  wife. 

"She  is  very  much  adored,"  pursued  Mrs.  Fitz 
James,  in  a  significant  tone. 

"  How  ?  "  He  asked  the  question  in  spite  of  sug- 
gestions of  prudence  and  delicacy  ;  he  undoubtedly  asked 
it  before  he  had  time  to  reflect  upon  it. 

"And  I  think  she  likes  it,"  affirmed  Mrs.  Fitz 
James. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  If  the  lady  had 
glanced  at  her  visitor,  she  would  have  seen  a  perturbed 
countenance.  But  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  floor  with 
an  air  of  meditation  which  was  significant  of  invention. 

"  Mind,  now,  this  is  confidential,"  she  resumed.  "  Oh ! 
there  is  nothing  wrong  about  it.  A  girl  has  a  right 
to  take  a  fancy  when  she  is  well  courted." 

Underhill  made  a  strong  effort  to  smile,  and  was 
able  to  say,  "  You  tantalize  me,  Mrs.  Fitz  James." 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  she  laughed.  "  It  must  be  quite 
unbearable  to  a  man  who  has  seen  her  drive  by.  Well, 
there  isn't  so  very,  very  much  to  it — nothing  declared 
about  it  yet,  I  fancy.     But  there's  love  at  the  bottom  ; 


200  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

at  least,  I  think  so — I  am  pretty  sure.  The  happy  man 
is  a  Belgian — a  Monsieur  De  Bethune." 

*'  Horrible  !  "  muttered  Underhill,  with  feelings  which 
we  can  understand  far  better  than  could  Mrs.  Fitz 
James. 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  laughed.  "  Not  in  the  least  bit,  I 
assure  you  ;  on  the  contrary,  it's  quite  delightful.  He's 
a  charming  man,  and  of  the  very  loveliest  lineage,  too — 
one  of  the  sweetest  old  genealogies  in  Europe.  The 
Seigneur  d'Aumale,  we  call  him  ;  and  I'm  sure  it's  a 
very  nice  title,  if  it  is  extinct.  His  ancestor  received 
the  fief  of  Aumale  from  Richard  the  Lion-hearted. 
How  can  it  be  horrible  ?  " 

It  may  be  imagined  how  hateful  and  tragical  all  this 
cheerful  levity  was  to  Underhill.  He  dropped  his  eyes 
under  those  of  his  unconscious  tormentor  as  he  mur- 
mured the  piteous  evasion,  or  protest,  "  But  a  Catholic 
and  a  foreigner  ! " 

"  Dear  me,  what  difference  does  all  that  make,  es- 
pecially to  a  young  lady  of  high  blood  ?  "  rattled  Mrs. 
Fitz  James.  "  Catholic  or  Protestant,  it's  the  same  re- 
ligion au  fond.  And  a  good  little  Confederate — you 
ought  to  understand  it.  Colonel — a  Confederate  girl 
doesn't  object  so  much  to  foreigners.  She  at  least  finds 
them  more  to  her  taste  than  Yankees." 

Here  was  another  hard  hit  for  Virginia  Beaufort's 
husband,  and  he  said,  "  I  suppose  so,"  in  such  a  cheer- 
less tone  that  Lotharinga  stared. 

"  You  are  now  abroad.  Colonel,"  she  ran  on.  "  You 
still  believe  that  Anglo-Saxons  and  Anglo-Saxon  ways 
are  finer  than  anything  ;  but  you  will  change  your  ideas 
before  long.'* 

As  he  shook  his  head  she  laughed  and  added :  "  Ah, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  201 

wait !  Paris  is  wonderfully  converting.  Stay  here  long 
enough,  and  you  will  think  as  Paris  does.  You  will 
come  to  think,  for  instance — "  Here  she  hesitated,  and 
then,  cheering  herself  with  a  giggle,  proceeded,  "  You 
will  come  to  believe  that  the  one  great  object  of  life  is 
to  make  love." 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  concede  that  already,"  replied 
Underhill,  no  doubt  remembering  his  wife  and  his  de- 
sire to  win  her. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  evidently  cheered  by  the  re- 
sponse. "  Let  me  fasten  your  rose-bud,"  she  murmured, 
leaning  toward  him  and  putting  forth  her  dainty  fin- 
gers. "It  is  lopping  over  in  the  most  alarming  manner. 
It  would  be  a  bad  omen  to  have  it  fall  out." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  muttered,  mechanically.  "  I 
shouldn't  like  a  bad  omen." 

"  It  would  really  distress  ?ne,"  she  said,  rolling  up 
her  melting  dark  eyes  at  him.  "  There — I  have  pinned 
it  fast — I  have  secured  myself  against  the  omen." 

Underhill  bowed  his  thanks,  and  then  glanced  sober, 
ly  about  him,  apparently  looking  for  his  hat. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  clever  enough  to  divine  his  pur- 
pose, and  to  invent  a  pretext  for  prolonging  the  inter- 
view. "  Dear  me,  I  quite  forgot,"  she  laughed.  "  We 
were  to  go  over  to  the  Louvre  again.  You  promised  to 
put  me  through  a  study  of  those  Dutch  extravaganzas, 
and  show  me  why  they  amount  to  something  in  art." 

Underhill  had  an  air  of  not  remembering  the  agree- 
ment, but  he  bowed  civilly  and  responded,  "I  am  at 
your  service." 

Lotharinga  sprang  up  gayly,  ran  into  her  dressing- 
room,  and  presently  returned  with  a  hat  on  and  a  shawl 
in  her  hands.     "  Please  put  this  on  me,"  she  said,  coax- 


202  THE  BLOODY   CEASM, 

ingly.  "These  French  maids  are  such  truants — gone 
just  when  you  want  them." 

Underhill  had  distinctly  seen  a  bonne  through  the 
crack  of  the  dressing-room  door  ;  but  he  of  course  ar- 
ranged the  shawl  around  the  plump  shoulders  of  the 
little  lady.  In  the  midst  of  the  delicate  labor  she 
stepped  back  a  pace  as  if  to  make  his  task  handier,  and 
pressed  lightly  against  his  arm. 

"Mercy,  how  awkward  I  am  !  "  she  smiled,  looking 
up  archly  ;  but  although  her  cheek  was  very  near  to 
his  lips,  they  did  not  meet. 

"  There — thank  you — am  I  all  right  ?  "  she  added, 
facing  him  and  then  turning  herself  about  for  inspec- 
tion.    "  I  trust  entirely  to  your  eyes." 

He  quietly  expressed  the  opinion  that  he  had  put  on 
her  drapery  as  well  as  a  man  could. 

"  As  well  as  an  unmarried  man  could,"  she  laughed. 
"Some  day,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  you  will  know  how  to  do 
it  even  better." 

Then,  taking  his  arm,  she  led  him  away  to  the  quiet- 
est rooms  of  the  Louvre. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

As  we  already  know,  the  advent  of  General  Hilton 
had  been  for  some  time  expected  and  desired  by  Mrs. 
Dumont  and  Virginia,  two  somewhat  lonesome  women, 
who  of  late  had  been  kept  very  short  of  human  con- 
verse, and  who  were  downright  hungry  for  that  of 
South  Carolinians  and  old  acquaintance. 

At  last  he  came,  his  wooden  leg  gallantly  storming 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  203 

the  lofty  Parisian  stairways,  and  his  tall  figure  looming 
vast  in  a  London  suit  of  shepherd's  plaid,  selected  per- 
haps because  of  its  resemblance  to  the  Confederate  gray. 
Aunt  Chloe  and  Uncle  Phil  were  the  first  to  meet  him, 
and  they  welcomed  him  with  an  enthusiasm  tropical 
enough  to  ripen  bananas. 

"  Laws,  Masr  Gin'ral !  Ain't  we  glad  to  see  ye  ! 
Bin  hopin'  fur  ye  dese  yere  six  weeks.  Have  so,  fur 
true."  Such  was  the  substance  and  general  purport  of 
the  first  prolonged  outcry  of  salutation. 

"  Couldn't  get  here  any  quicker,  old  folks,"  answered 
Hilton,  cordially  shaking  the  black  hands.  "  Too  many 
fine  things  to  see  on  the  way.  Wasted  some  time  in 
England,  trying  to  find  out  where  the  Hiltons  came 
from.     How  do  you  two  like  foreign  parts  ?  " 

Uncle  Phil.  "  Like  'em  firs'  rate.  Boss — heap  sight 
better'n  Charleston." 

The  General.  "  Better  than  Charleston  ?  Old  rep- 
robate !  hoary  apostate  !  Have  you  turned  your  old 
back  on  your  country  ?  You  don't  get  any  sweet-pota- 
toes here." 

Uncle  Phil  (sniggering).  "Da's  so.  Boss — nor  hoe- 
cake,  nuther.  But  we  gits  'long  mighty  fine  on  white 
bread  an'  chickin.     We  has  good  eatin',  Boss." 

Aunt  Chloe.  "  Never  lit  on  no  better,  Masr,  not  in 
no  times.  An'  y'  know  cookin'  has  kinder  died  out  in 
Sou'  Carliny  sence  d'wah.  Crow  an'  corn  don'  grow  in 
same  field." 

The  General.  "  Oh  !  shut  up  about  the  war.  I'm 
going  to  forget  the  war.     Where  are  the  ladies  ?  " 

Aunt  Chloe.    *'  Yere  comes  Miss  Ginny. — Clar  out, 
Phil !     Don'  you  an'  me  be  bodderin'  roun'."     (Exeunt 
Uncle  Phil  and  Aunt  Chloe.) 


204  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Virginia  arrived  with  rustling  and  laughter,  a  tem- 
pest of  silk  and  of  glad  girlhood. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  General !  my  dear  old  friend  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  clutching  the  hero's  mighty  arms  and  kissing 
his  leathery  cheek. 

"  Ah,  my  child  !  "  returned  Hilton,  obviously  much 
affected.  "  Rose  of  Charleston !  flower  of  the  low- 
lands !  "  he  repeated,  holding  her  by  both  hands  and 
gazing  at  her  noble  face  with  the  frank  admiration  of 
an  elderly  man  for  girlish  freshness  and  beauty.  Then 
he  led  her  to  a  sofa,  placed  her  upon  it  tenderly,  seated 
himself  in  front  of  her,  and  studied  her  in  silence. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  me  ?  "  Virginia  laughed, 
joyously.     "  Have  I  changed  ?  " 

"  Only  for  the  better,"  declared  the  General. 
"  Greatly  for  the  better,  and  still  the  same.  Still  like 
your  family.  Beaufort  all  over.  Ah,  Beaufort — Beau- 
fort !  "  he  murmured  in  a  caressing  tone,  letting  his  lips 
dwell  lovingly  on  the  word.  "  There  never  was  a  fam- 
ily like  it — not  on  this  side  the  water." 

"  This  side,  General  ?  "  asked  Virginia,  with  another 
gay  laugh.  "  Do  you  remember  that  you  are  in  Eu- 
rope ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  I  am  in  South  Carolina. 
A  South  Carolinian  is  always  in  South  Carolina.  When 
he  says  this  side  of  the  ocean,  he  means  his  side." 

"  And  the  Atlantic  is  bounded  on  the  east  by  the 
old  country,  where  the  South  Carolinians  came  from, 
and  on  the  west  by  the  country  where  they  live  now." 

"  That  is  our  geography,  my  dear.  I  wonder  you 
should  laugh  at  it.  You  have  lost  a  little  of  the  pristine 
spirit.  At  home  you  wouldn't  have  joked  on  these 
matters." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  205 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  said  Virginia.  *'  But  I  can't  help 
it.  It  is  so  bewildering  to  travel !  Europe  is  magnifi- 
cent, General,  and  Paris  is  bigger  than  Charleston." 

"  Yes,  and  I  want  to  protest  against  it ;  I  want  to 
form  a  league  against  it.  Can  you  guess  how  the  sight 
of  this  old-world  splendor  affects  me  ?  It  is  beginning 
to  Americanize  me.  I  want  a  vaster  South  Carolina 
than  I  was  contented  with  once.  I  want  to  spread  that 
name  all  over  the  United  States,  and  look  upon  the 
whole  republic  as  South  Carolina.  We  are  not  enough 
alone  to  match  ourselves  against  Europe.  We  want  the 
help  of  every  man  of  our  race  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic." 

"  O  General !  —  ah.  General !  You  are  more  per- 
verted than  I.     You  are  becoming  a  Federalist." 

"  It  is  a  great  country,  my  dear.  I  feel  mightily 
protected  with  an  American  passport  in  my  pocket. 
Civis  Momanus  swn.  What  a  country  it  is  !  A  wave 
of  its  hand  sends  imperial  France  out  of  Mexico.  What 
other  state  in  the  whole  world  orders  Napoleon  away 
from  its  borders  ?  " 

"  My  good  old  friend,  you  are  turning  traitor  to  Jef- 
ferson Davis.  Would  you  dare  talk  in  this  way  to 
Robert  E.  Lee  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  on  my  way  ISTorth  I  saw  him — the  lovely 
old  Christian  hero  !  He  said  very  much  these  same 
things  to  me.  He  is  submissive,  sublime,  beautiful ! 
He  bows  to  the  will  of  Providence.  He  honestly  ac- 
cepts the  government  which  God  has  given  him." 

"  Ah,  dear  !  "  sighed  Virginia.  "  The  soldiers  have 
abandoned  the  fisjht,  and  onlv  the  women  continue  it." 

"  The  women  and  the  politicians — the  politicians  on 
both  sides  :  may  God  confound  them  !     I  don't  mean 


206  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

the  women — God  help  them  !    They  have  sore,  wounded 
hearts,  and  they  can't  forget  all  in  a  moment." 

"  Never  ! — I  never  can  forget  !  "  declared  Virginia. 
She  spoke  energetically,  but  not  quite  with  the  old  ran- 
cor. 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  said  Hilton,  gently.  "  Never- 
theless, may  God  aid  you  to  forget  !  You  will  find  a 
blessing  in  forgetfulness.  I  have  come  to  the  opinion 
that  true  policy,  as  well  as  true  magnanimity,  consists 
in  forgetting  our  enmities  as  faithfully  as  we  remember 
our  friendships." 

"  Ah,  well ! "  responded  the  girl,  drawing  another 
sigh,  a  slightly  weary  one,  as  if  one  might  tire  of  the 
subject.  "We  won't  dispute  about  it.  I  can't  agree 
with  you,  but  we  won't  dispute." 

Hilton  waved  his  hand,  as  if  bidding  farewell  to  the 
ugly  reminiscence,  and  then  glanced  about  the  apart- 
ment. It  was  the  first  Parisian  suite  of  rooms  that  he 
had  seen,  and  he  was  evidently  pleased  with  its  fur- 
nishings and  knickknackeries. 

"  You  are  finely  off  here,"  he  smiled.  "  How  many 
pretty  things  ! " 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  my  luxury  when  I  think  of  our 
poor  people  at  home,"  Virginia  said.  "  At  all  events,  I 
have  the  satisfaction  of  being  out  of  debt  to  South  Car- 
olinians. I  am  proud  and  glad  of  having  paid  you, 
General.     Excuse  my  mentioning  it." 

"  Mention  it  as  often  as  you  please,  my  child,"  he 
laughed.  "  I  like  to  hear  about  it.  It  is  an  immense 
pleasure  to  be  worth  money  again." 

Then  followed  a  brief  dialogue,  from  which  it  ap- 
peared that  Virginia  had  devoted  a  certain  sum  to  the 
relief  of  Charleston's  poor,  and  that  the  General  had 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  207 

distributed  it  for  her.     He  told  a  pathetic  tale  of  wid- 
ows, orphans,  and  disabled  soldiers. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  I  ought  to  go  back,"  groaned  Virginia. 
"  But  I  am  afraid  of  meeting — " 

"Your  husband,"  said  Hilton,  looking  her  steadily 
in  the  face,  as  if  he  meant  to  impress  her  with  the  title 
and  its  claims. 

"I  hate  the  word,"  the  girl  broke  out.  "Please 
don't  use  it.     We  never  mention  his  name." 

"  I  had  hoped  that  somewhat  of  that  feeling  might 
have  passed  away,"  returned  the  General,  softly.  He 
glanced  about  the  fine  parlor  again,  and  added  :  "  It 
seems  to  me  that,  under  the  circumstances,  it  ought  not 
to  last  a  lifetime.  May  I  tell  you,  my  dear,  that,  when 
I  distributed  your  gift  among  our  poor  friends,  I  almost 
felt  it  a  duty  to  inform  them  that,  after  all,  it  was 
Yankee  money  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  why  do  you  throw  that  in  my  face  ? "  de- 
manded Virginia,  fairly  flinching  in  body  as  well  as  in 
spirit. 

Hilton  remained  pensive  a  moment,  and  then  asked, 
"  Can  you  tell  me  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  was  the  quick  and  almost  angry  reply. 

"  I  had  hoped  you  could.  I  have  lost  track  of 
him." 

"What  in  the  world  do  you  want  to  keep  track  of 
him  for  ?  " 

"  He  has  done  some  fine  things.  He,  too,  has  given 
large  bounty  to  the  Southern  poor,  and  I  am  the  only 
person  who  knew  whence  the  mercy  came." 

"  I  wish  you  hadn't  told  me  that,"  murmured  Vir- 
ginia. "  What  do  you  want  to  make  me  uncomfortable 
for  ?  " 


208  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  So  you  can  give  me  no  news  of  him  ?  "  the  General 
repeated,  almost  disconsolately. 

"  No,  not  a  word — thank  Heaven  !  I  can't  help  say- 
ing so." 

"I  hope  sincerely  that  nothing  has  happened  to 
him." 

Virginia  colored  with  sudden  excitement,  and  asked 
eagerly,  "  Has  he  really  disappeared  ?  " 

Thereupon  Hilton  told  what  he  knew.  He  had 
written  to  Underhill  two  months  ago,  and  got  no  an- 
swer ;  on  his  way  to  Europe  he  had  sought  him  in  Bos- 
ton, but  without  success  ;  he  had  found  numbers  of  his 
friends,  but  all  were  ignorant  of  his  whereabout. 

"  Yankee  friends  ! "  sneered  Virginia.  Then  she 
added  in  a  tone  of  argument,  "You  can  see  that  he 
has  no  real  friends." 

"He  has  owe,"  affirmed  the  General,  slapping  the 
knee  of  his  amputated  leg  so  emphatically  that  the  girl 
recoiled,  looking  awed,  hurt,  and  humbled.  "  Well,"  he 
resumed,  "  I  could  learn  nothing  of  him,  except  that  he 
had  been  heard  to  talk  of  a  trip  to  Calif  oraia  and  China, 
and  that  he  was  gone." 

"  I  hope  he  is  at  the  antipodes,  and  likes  it,"  muttered 
Virginia. 

"  I  hope  he  is  safe,"  replied  Hilton,  gazing  at  her 
gravely — so  gravely  and  indeed  reprovingly  that  she 
felt  driven  to  add,  "  Of  course,  I  don't  wish  him  any 
harm." 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Hilton.  "He  has  done  you 
what  good  he  might,  and  as  little  harm  as  possible." 

"  O  General !  I  had  expected  a  friend,  and  here 
you  come  as  a  foe  ! "  was  the  half -mournful,  half -petu- 
lant response.     It  was   clear  enough  that  the  young 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  209 

woman  had  been  somewhat  wearied  and  fretted  by  the 
persistent  presentation  of  the  excellences  and  the  claims 
of  her  husband. 

Hilton  divined  this,  looked  about  the  room  for  a  new 
topic,  and,  perceiving  Virginia's  piano,  asked  for  a  song. 
But  just  then  De  Bethune  arrived  to  give  his  lesson  in 
music.  The  hostess  received  him  so  graciously  and  cor- 
dially that  the  old  friend  bent  his  solemn  gray  eyes 
upon  the  new  one  with  studious  inspection.  De  Be- 
thune, on  his  part,  was  tremendously  impressed  at  being 
presented  to  a  General  ;  he  looked  so  wonderstruck  and 
made  a  bow  so  full  of  reverence  that  Hilton  stared  at 
him  in  surprise.  A  minute  later,  standing  beside  his 
pupil  at  the  piano,  he  whispered  to  her  :  "  Pardon  my 
moment  of  confusion,  Miss  Beaufort.  I  never  before 
met  a  general  officer.     I  really  could  not  talk." 

She  was  already  running  her  fingers  through  a  jDre- 
lude,  and  she  merely  replied  by  a  little  laugh  of  sur- 
prise. The  General,  meanwhile,  reposed  his  vast  length 
upon  a  sofa,  waiting  anxiously  for  the  voice  which  he 
loved.  He  noted  the  smiling  confidence  between  the 
two  others,  and  he  was  undisguisably  ill  pleased  with  it. 
His  suspicion,  of  course,  was  that  this  foreigner,  this 
bowing  and  smirking  and  cooing  Frenchman,  was  try- 
ing to  pay  court  to  Mrs.  Underbill.  He  staid  through 
the  whole  music-lesson  like  a  duenna.  Then,  when 
Mrs.  Dumont  came  in  from  a  shopping  raid,  he  caught 
an  opportunity  to  grumble  at  her  for  leaving  her  niece 
so  much  alone.  A  long  confabulation  on  Southern 
matters  and  Charlestonian  gossip  did  not  fully  restore 
his  equanimity,  and  when  he  left  the  Beaufort  rooms  he 
still  wore  a  brooding  and  anxious  countenance. 


210  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

CHAPTER  XXYII. 

For  a  week  or  so  the  General  was  prodigiously  oc- 
cupied with  Paris,  as  Americans  are  apt  to  be  when  they 
first  reach  that  city  of  splendors  and  delights. 

He  took  a  cab  by  the  day,  and  drove  everywhere  and 
saw  everything  ;  he  was  perpetually  in  a  cab,  or  a  gal- 
lery, or  a  church,  or  a  theatre.  He  began  his  inspec- 
tion of  the  marvelous  capital  in  the  company  of  Mrs. 
Dumont  and  Virginia,  but,  finding  that  they  wearied  a 
little  of  twice-seen  sights,  he  magnanimously  continued 
the  labor  alone — not  always  alone,  either,  for,  as  he  was 
a  social,  urbane,  personable  man,  genial  in  deportment 
and  attractive  in  appearance,  he  drew  to  himself  quite  a 
number  of  chance  acquaintance.  Yankees  made  up  to 
him,  and  only  guessed  little  by  little  that  he  had  been 
a  rebel,  and  parted  from  him  with  wonder  that  they 
could  be  sorry  to  lose  sight  of  a  rebel.  Englishmen  cot- 
toned to  him,  and  fairly  loved  him  when  they  learned 
that  he  was  an  ex-Confederate,  and  almost  bowed  down 
to  him  when  they  heard  him  called  General.  A  German 
count  was  delighted  to  practice  upon  him  his  moderate 
stock  of  English,  and  a  custodian  who  could  not  under- 
stand a  word  he  said  showed  him  the  private  rooms  of 
the  Tuileries. 

Among  these  picture-gallery  intimates  was  a  pretty 
little  black-eyed  lady,  whom  he  nearly  stumbled  over  in 
one  of  the  dimmest  passages  of  the  Louvre,  and  who 
received  his  apologies  with  such  a  winning  smile  and 
ready  sparkle  of  small-talk,  that  he  at  once  addressed 
her  as  a  countrywoman,  and  strolled  on  with  her  for 
half  an  hour,  gathering  conversation  and  companion- 
ship out  of  various  schools  of  painting.     The  result  was 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  211 

that  the  two  exchanged  cards,  and  the  General  called 
next  day  on  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  and  the  acquaintance  be- 
came permanent.  On  his  second  visit  he  learned  that 
she  had  quitted  her  private  apartment  for  the  Hotel  du 
Louvre.  Betaking  himself  thither  during  the  course  of 
the  day,  he  found  the  little  lady  attired  as  if  to  go  out. 
."  I  have  come  at  the  wrong  moment,"  he  said,  glan- 
cing at  her  hat.     "Don't  let  me  detain  you." 

*'  You  always  come  at  the  right  moment.  General," 
smiled  Mrs.  Fitz  James.  "  Gentlemen  are  apt  to.  Do 
sit  down.  Some  friends  are  to  call  for  me,  but  mean- 
time I  want  somebody  to  talk  to." 

"  I  wonder  at  your  leaving  your  pretty  rooms,"  re- 
marked Hilton.     "  Do  you  like  hotels  best  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  sometimes,"  vaguely  answered  the  lady,  who 
had  a  reason  for  her  change  which  she  did  not  care  to 
avow.  "  You  are  at  the  Hotel  Castiglione,  are  you  not  ? '» 
she  rattled  on.     "  It  is  a  quiet  little  place,  and  very 
handy  to  the  theatres.     But  why  not  come  here?     I 
always  did  like  the  Hotel  du  Louvre.     The  service  is  so 
good  !     A  lady  likes  to  be  waited  on.     Then  the  palace 
is  close  by.    I  adore  the  galleries.    And  then  the  shop— 
the  Magasin  du  Louvre— it  is  right  under  us.      You 
don't  care  for  shopping,  I  suppose.     But  we  do— we 
silly  women.     I  can  lull  myself  to  sleep  with  thinking 
of  the  sweet  things  down  below  me.     By-the-way,  I  am 
going  out  with  your  lovely  friend  and  pet,  Virginia. 
Isn't  she  superb  ?     I  think  so.      We  are  to  go  to  a 
private  concert— something  very  choice  and  recherche. 
I  wish  I  had  a  card  for  you.     But  De  Bethune  could 
only  get  three  ;  so  we  must  leave  you  out.     Of  course, 
he  did  what  he  could  for  Virginia.     He  is  ravi  de  Ma- 
demoiselle Virginie,  and  no  wonder.     I  sometimes  wish 


212  THE  BLOODY  Off  ASM. 

he  could  find  a  success  there.  Isn't  he  charming  ? — and 
such  a  lineage,  too  !  One  seldom  hears  of  anything  as 
old  as  Richard  the  Lion-hearted.  It  is  a  real  pity  that 
such  an  elegant  man  of  such  high  descent  should  have 
neither  title  nor  estate.  A  fortune  would  mend  all  that. 
What  do  you  think,  General,  of  trying  to  get  Virginia 
for  him  ?  " 

"  Preposterous  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  friend  of  the 
Beauforts,  angered  as  well  as  confounded  by  this  bab- 
ble, and  not  able  at  the  moment  to  decide  whether  he 
should  or  should  not  reveal  the  fact  of  Virginia's  mar- 
riage. Presently  he  remembered  his  manners,  and 
added  hastily  :  *'  Excuse  me.  I  know  the  young  lady 
well.  It  isn't  possible  that  she  could  take  an  interest  in 
him." 

"  I  know  her  too,"  laughed  Lotharlnga,  tossing  her 
saucy  little  head,  brimful  of  coquetries  and  suspicions 
of  coquetries.  "  A  woman  knows  a  woman  better  than 
a  man  can.  Virginia  and  I  have  been  rivals  for  De 
Bethune  ;  that  is,  in  a  composed,  decent,  friendly  way  ; 
nothing  at  all  emotional,  you  understand  —  no  trans- 
ports of  jealousy.  But  I  have  given  him  up  to  her — 
since  I  met  you,  General,"  she  added  with  another  sil- 
very laugh. 

The  General  did  not  respond  to  her  jocose  compli- 
ment, not  even  by  a  smile.  In  spite  of  his  habitual  ur- 
banity and  his  efforts  at  self-control,  he  had  somewhat 
the  air  of  being  indignant,  and  also  anxious.  Perhaps 
it  occurred  to  Lotharinga  that  he  was  in  love  with  Vir- 
ginia himself  ;  at  all  events,  after  one  bright  glance  at 
his  solemnized  face,  she  changed  the  subject. 

"  Oh  !  I  forgot,"  she  said  ;  "  have  you  seen  Colonel 
Peyton  ?  " 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  213 

"  Colonel  Peyton  ?  "  repeated  Hilton,  absently. 

"  Ah,  you  haven't  met  him,  then  ?  He  is  a  Virgin- 
ian ;  and  such  a  superb  gentleman  !  just  the  Virginian 
type.  I  want  you  to  meet  him.  I  know  you  will  be 
delierhted  with  each  other." 

"Where  is  he  staying?"  asked  the  General,  who 
could  not  help  being  interested  at  last  by  the  name  of 
Peyton,  so  redolent  of  Southern  aristocracy. 

"Here — at  the  hotel,"  hesitated  the  widovv,  color- 
ing a  little,  and  letting  her  gaze  wander.  Even  a  man 
might  guess  that  she  had  come  to  reside  in  the  Hotel 
du  Louvre  for  the  sake  of  being  under  the  same  roof 
with  that  wonderful  Virginian.  Hilton  looked  at  her, 
dropped  his  eyes  considerately  to  the  floor,  and  quietly 
murmured  that  he  should  be  much  pleased  to  meet  the 
Colonel.  Just  then  a  servant  brought  in  a  card,  and 
Lotharinga  rose  with  a  smile  of  apology. 

"I  must  go,"  she  said.  "The  carriage  is  waiting. 
Don't  give  yourself  the  trouble  to  go  down  with  me." 

Knowing  well  that  his  escort  would  be  a  detention, 
the  wooden-legged  hero  only  went  with  Mrs.  Fitz  James 
as  far  as  the  head  of  the  stairway,  and  there  bade  her 
adieu  with  a  ceremonious  bow.  Then,  after  the  rustle 
of  her  swift  descent  had  flitted  out  of  hearing,  he 
limped  slowly  earthward,  muttering  aloud,  "  Frivolous, 
dangerous  rattle-pate !  Very  bad  company  for  my 
pet ! " 

On  the  landing  of  the  second  flight  he  halted,  and 
stared  with  a  puzzled  air  at  an  ascending  figure.  It 
was  a  blonde  young  man,  dressed  in  a  complete  suit  of 
Confederate  gray,  with  his  yellow  hair  combed  straight 
and  cut  square  across  his  forehead.  His  eyes  were  bent 
upon  the  stairs,  and  he  did  not  see  the  General. 


214  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  hesitated  Hilton.  "Is 
this — isn't  this  Colonel — " 

Before  the  mystified  man  could  finish  his  query,  the 
other  looked  up,  smiled  familiarly,  put  forth  his  hand 
and  replied  :  "  Yes,  it  is  Colonel  Peyton.  How  are 
you.  General  ?  " 

"  Good  Heavens  !  You  don't  mean — whv,  God  bless 
my  soul !  "  exclaimed  the  amazed  Hilton. 

"Yes,  I  am  Colonel  Peyton,"  returned  Underhill. 
"  I'm  in  disguise,"  he  added  in  a  serio-comic  whisper. 
"  Come  into  my  room,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  .  .  . 
Yes,  I  am  Mrs.  Fitz  James's  Colonel  Peyton,"  he  con- 
tinued, when  they  were  alone.  "  I  am  playing  the  Con- 
federate hero.  I  am  planning  to  make  my  wife's  ac- 
quaintance." 

The  General  gazed  at  him  a  moment  with  a  per- 
plexed countenance,  as  though  he  either  disapproved 
morally  of  the  stratagem,  or  doubted  its  success.  At 
last,  with  an  air  of  suspending  judgment,  he  simply  re- 
plied, "  She  just  drove  away  from  the  door,  I  believe." 

"  I  saw  her  :  she  is  very  beautiful — very  !  "  said 
Underhill.  He  remained  pensive  an  instant,  as  if  re- 
calling the  image  to  his  mind,  and  then  added  :  "  She 
looked  me  straight  in  the  face.  Ah,  General !  it  made 
my  heart  beat  horribly." 

Hilton  leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  seized  the  young 
man's  hand,  and  wrung  it  hard.  "  You  have  my  utmost 
sympathy,"  he  declared.     "  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Keep  my  secret,  at  least  for  a  while.  Help  me  on 
with  it,  if  you  feel  that  you  may.  Learn,  for  instance, 
to  call  me  Pevton." 

"Secret!"  exclaimed  the  General.  "What  secret 
is  there  about  it?     Here  you  are  going  around  with 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM,  215 

your  own  face  on.  I  should  have  known  you  at  once 
but  for  your  new  way  of  brushing  your  hair." 

"  Exactly.  You  would  have  known  me,  if  you  had 
known  me.  A  very  slight  change  in  a  face  will  puzzle 
a  man,  especially  when  he  meets  the  face  unexpectedly. 
As  for  my  wife,  she  wouldn't  know  me  in  any  shape, 
unless  I  should  put  on  false  whiskers." 

"  And  you  propose  to  make  her  acquaintance  under 
a  feiened  name  ?  "  asked  Hilton.  "  It  strikes  me  as — 
dangerous." 

"  It  strikes  me  in  the  same  way.  She  may  discover 
the  trick,  and  be  angered  by  it.  But  what  else  can  I 
do?  She  wouldn't  see  me  under  my  own  name.  I 
wrote  to  her  once,  and  the  letter  came  back  indorsed, 
*  Not  found.'     She  passes,  it  seems,  as  Miss  Beaufort." 

"  Ah,  you  know  that ! "  sighed  the  friend  of  the 
Beauforts.     "I  am  sorry." 

"It  wasn't  a  pleasant  discovery.  Still,  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  not  to  be  disgusted,  and  not  to  be 
balked." 

"Don't  be  balked,  Colonel,"  begged  the  General. 
"  Go  on,  for  your  own  sake,  and  for  hers,"  he  added, 
remembering  the  alleged  courtship  of  De  Bethune. 

Underbill  noted  that  his  visitor  looked  wearied  and 
worried,  and,  remembering  his  taste  for  strong  liquors, 
offered  to  ring  for  brandy. 

"No,  thank  you,"  was  the  unexpected  reply.  "I 
have  stopped  all  that.  Prosperity  has  returned  to  me, 
and  I  don't  need  drink  as  I  did.  I  rarely  touch  any- 
thinsj  stronojer  than  claret." 

"  Is  there  anybody  about  my  wife  who  knows  me  ?  " 
the  young  man  resumed. 

"  No,"   said   the  General,  and   then   groaned  out  : 


216  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"Yes,  good  Heavens,  yes  !     Miss  Macmorran  is  here, 
and  visits  them." 

"  Ah,  dear  !  "  said  Underhill.  "  It  would  serve  me 
right  if  she  should  do  something  to  hurt  me." 

Thereupon  there  was  a  long  conversation  about 
Korah  Macmorran,  ending  in  an  agreement  that  Hilton 
should  see  her,  confide  to  her  the  whole  story  of 
the  rejected  husband's  plot,  and  beg  her  not  to  dis- 
close it. 

*'  I  think  she  will  try  not  to  meet  me,"  Harry  sighed. 
"  She  has  good  reason  for  wishing  never  to  see  my  face 
again." 

"She  is  a  noble  girl,"  answered  the  General.  "I 
believe  she  will  assent  heartily  to  a  project  for  bring- 
ing man  and  wife  together.  As  for  her  calling  you 
Peyton  to  your  face,  I  hope  she  won't  be  forced  to  try 
it.     I  don't  see  how  I  can  do  it  myself." 

"  You  07iiist  do  it,  my  dear  friend,"  urged  Underhill. 
"  Can't  you  stand  by  a  fellow  who  is  in  love  with  his 
wife — in  love  with  a  Beaufort  ?  " 

"  Yes,  by  Jove  !  "  promised  the  General.  "  I'll  call 
you  Peyton,  if  I  never  look  man  or  woman  in  the  eye 
again." 

"  And  you  will  introduce  me  ?  " 

"  O  good  Lord  !  My  dear  fellow,  I  couldn't  do 
it." 

"  I'll  beg  Mrs.  Fitz  James  to  present  me." 

"  No,  not  Mrs.  Fitz  James,"  said  the  General,  eagerly. 
"  Better  get  her  brother  to  take  you  there." 

"Why  not  the  sister?" 

"I  don't  like  that  little — witch.  Excuse  me;  I 
hope  the  epithet  doesn't  annoy  you  :  but  I  can't  like 
her.     The  fact  is,  Underhill — Peyton  I  should  say,  and 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  217 

^ill_tbe  fact  is,  I  don't  want  you  with  her.  She  is 
cracked  about  you." 

"  Oh  !  don't  fear  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  General,"  the 
young  man  replied,  gravely.  "  I  am  in  love  w^ith  my 
wife,  and  I  never  shall  be  in  love  with  any  one  else.  I 
don't  know  that  I  can  get  Mrs.  Fitz  James  to  present 
me,"  he  added.  "  I  have  been  hinting  at  it  for  a  week, 
and  she  keeps  evading  it." 

"  Jealous,"  suggested  Hilton.  "  Well,  if  she  won't, 
try  her  brother  ;  and,  if  he  fails  you,  come  to  me.'* 


CHAPTER  XXVm. 

It  must  be  understood  that,  while  the  General 
could  make  a  call  or  two  on  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  and  could 
do  a  tourist's  full  duty  by  the  sights  of  Paris,  he  did 
not  fail  to  see  much  of  his  two  old  friends,  the  last  relics 
of  the  Beaufort  lineage. 

He  liked  them  and  admired  them  more  than  ever. 
At  home  he  had  sometimes  been  tempted  to  consider 
Mrs.  Dumont  rather  dull,  if  not  positively  light-headed  ; 
but  in  a  foreign  land,  and  comparing  her  wdth  people 
who  could  not  speak  his  language,  she  seemed  as  solid 
and  bright  as  a  gold  eagle.  In  fact,  the  worthy  lady 
had  really  and  greatly  improved  during  the  last  half 
year  or  so.  Prosperity,  physical  well-being,  and  tran- 
quillity of  feeling  had  restored  to  her  reasonableness  of 
temper  and  of  opinion.  She  no  longer  raved  and  glared 
like  a  sailor  going  mad  with  hunger  and  despair  on  a 
wreck.  She  had  regained  the  natural  urbanity  and 
10 


218  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

dignity  of  a  Beaufort,  and  was  as  sensible  in  her  views 
of  life  as  her  circumstances  required. 

As  to  Virginia,  the  General  fairly  reveled  in  her 
graces,  and  hardly  knew  which  to  admire  most,  her 
cleverness  or  her  beauty.  "Good  Heavens,  how  the 
child  has  grown  !  "  he  said  to  the  happy  aunt.  "  She 
is  a  foot  taller,  mentally  and  morally,  than  she  was  a 
year  ago.  She  was  a  little  like  a  noble  savage  then. 
Now  she  is  fit  to  be  a  queen  of  civilized  men.  She 
knows  things  that  I  don't.  I  am  positively  gathering 
information  and  ideas  from  her.  What  a  gift  she  has 
in  languages,  for  example  !  She  speaks  French  like  a 
native — better  than  the  natives — more  distinctly  and 
comprehensibly.  There  must  be  such  a  thing  as  de- 
scended faculty.  My  belief  is,  that  a  person  of  old 
English  stock  couldn't  learn  French  in  that  way." 

"  The  practice  in  singing  helps,"  explained  Mrs.  Du- 
mont,  who  had  not  found  that  her  French  blood  gave 
her  much  command  of  the  tongue.  "  At  least,  that  is 
what  Virginia  says.  She  says  that  Mr.  De  Bethune  is 
her  teacher,  both  in  music  and  in  the  languasre." 

The  General  became  absent-minded,  and  presently 
grumbled,  "  I  don't  quite  fancy  that  obsequious  fellow." 

"You  surprise  me,"  protested  Mrs.  Dumont.  "Mr. 
De  Bethune  is  what  I  call  an  elegant  gentleman." 

''Oh,  is  he?"  growled  the  hero.  "Well,  perhaps, 
I  have  too  lately  come  from  South  Carolina  to  be  a  good 
judge  of  gentility." 

,  Mrs.  Dumont  looked  hurt  and  little  less  than  indig- 
nant. "I  admit  that  he  has  not  our  manner,"  she 
bridled.  "He  has  a  softness  of  address  which  Caro- 
linians at  first  might  be  apt  to  consider  effeminate. 
But  it  is  very  common  here,  especially  among  the  high- 


TEE  BLOOEY  CEASM.  219 

er  classes.  One  soon  comes  to  like  it.  For  instance,  it 
gives  me  great  pleasure,  General,  to  note  Mr.  De  Be- 
thune's  exceedingly  respectful  manner  to  yow,"  con- 
cluded the  lady  with  personal  pungency. 

"That  is  just  what  I  object  to,"  insisted  Hilton. 
"  He  has  the  style,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  of  a 
neffro  bodv-servant.  I  don't  want  to  be  crino^ed  to  in 
that  way  by  a  white  man." 

"  It's  your  title.  General ;  it's  your  honorable  title. 
You  don't  understand  what  it  is  in  Europe  to  be  a  gen- 
eral. It  is  something  like  being  a  duke.  I  believe  mili- 
tary rank  is  about  as  highly  considered  here  as  nobility. 
Mr.  De  Bethune  has  remarked  to  us  more  than  once 
that  you  are  the  only  general  he  knows." 

"He  must  have  kept  pretty  lowly  company,"  was 
the  sulky  comment  of  the  ex-brigadier.  "  He  had  bet- 
ter move  to  South  Carolina  and  get  used  to  generals." 

"  I  trust  you  will  forgive  him  for  being  respectful  to 
you,"  retorted  Mrs.  Dumont.     "  We  admire  him  for  it." 

The  gentleman  turned  a  glance  of  inspection  upon 
the  lady.  Probably  it  struck  him  all  at  once  that  De 
Bethune  might  be  the  favorite  of  the  aunt,  instead  of 
the  niece.  At  all  events,  a  pleasanter  expression  came 
into  his  eyes,  and  he  answered  in  a  placating  tone  :  "  Oh, 
very  likely  I  do  the  young  man  injustice.  You  know 
him  better  than  I." 

Then  Norah  Macmorran  dropped  in,  and  Virginia 
made  her  appearance,  and  the  two  girls  sang  together. 
The  South  Carolinian  hidalgo  was  very  polite,  almost 
reverentially  polite,  to  the  poor  Irish  girl.  He  rose  on 
his  wooden  leg  when  she  entered,  and  shook  hands  with 
her  cordially,  and  helped  her  to  a  chair.  Mrs.  Dumont 
was  so  astonished  that  she  came   very  near   staring. 


220  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

The  General,  of  course,  did  not  explain  that,  aside  from 
respecting  Miss  Macmorran,  he  earnestly  wished  to  gain 
her  good-will,  with  a  view  to  securing  her  secrecy  in 
the  matter  of  Virginia's  husband.  When  she  left,  he 
opened  the  door  for  her  in  his  grandest  manner,  and 
also  escorted  her  homeward  as  far  as  the  Champs- 
Elysees.  There,  in  the  solitude  of  vast  monumental 
spaces,  he  gently  told  her  of  the  presence  and  plan  of 
Underhill. 

Korah  walked  by  his  side,  her  eyes  bent  on  the  pave- 
ment, her  pale  cheek  a  little  paler  than  usual,  and  her 
whole  soul  listening.  She  was  a  most  pathetic  figure, 
and  Hilton  could  not  bear  to  look  at  her.  At  the  last, 
when  he  had  ceased  speaking,  she  drew  a  deep,  desper- 
ate gasp,  and  asked  in  a  palpitating  voice,  "  Will  he  go 
to  her  rooms  to  see  her?" 

Judging  by  the  expression  of  the  General's  counte- 
nance, it  would  have  been  possible  for  him  to  cry  with 
pity.  Nevertheless,  he  remembered  his  anxiety  for 
Underbill's  success,  and  he  answered  in  a  tone  of  busi- 
ness-like firmness  :  "Yes,  he  will  go  there  to  see  her — 
under  a  feigned  name,  you  understand — the  name  of 
Colonel  Peyton.  If  you  should  meet  him,  will  you 
kindly  remember  to  address  him  by  that  name,  or  at 
least  to  avoid  mentioning  his  true  name  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  meet  him,"  said  Korah,  in  an  almost 
inaudible  monotone. 

The  General  took  her  hand  with  such  a  fervor  of 
manner  as  if  he  were  on  the  point  of  kissing  it.  He 
did  not  raise  his  eyes  to  her  face  ;  indeed,  it  would  have 
been  useless  to  do  so — the  face  was  turned  away. 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  my  dear  and  sweet 
young  lady,"  he  said.     "  If  we  can  bring  this  husband 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  221 

and  wife  together,  I  think  we  shall  be  rewarded  in  our 
souls.     I  trust  and  pray  with  my  whole  heart  that  you 

may  be." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  replied  Norah,  still  speaking  in 
the  same  low  monotone,  but  not  wdthout  a  touch  of 
tenderness,  as  if  it  were  of  gratitude. 

"  Good-by,  my  dear  and  good  child,"  said  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"  Good-by,  sir,"  softly  answered  Norah.  And  then, 
without  looking  each  other  in  the  face — so  fearful  was 
the  one  of  showing  and  the  other  of  seeing  pain — they 
parted. 

An  hour  or  two  later  Hilton  met  Underhill,  and 
learned  that  during  the  following  morning  he  was  to 
be  presented  at  the  Beaufort  apartments  by  Mrs.  Fitz 
James. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  The  little  flirt  is  to  accom- 
plish some  good  without  knowing  it.  But,  Colonel, 
can  you  do  it  ?  It  wall  be  worse  than  storming  a  bat- 
tery." 

"  I  am  terribly  frightened — I  admit  it,"  the  young 
man  confessed.     "  But  it  must  be  done." 

''  To  think  of  that  perverse  child  scaring  two  veteran 
soldiers  nearly  to  death  !  "  said  the  General.  "  Well, 
I'll  be  there — I'll  be  there  before  you  ;  and  I'll  call  you 
Peyton,  if  it  chokes  me.  At  twelve,  you  say  ?  I'll  be 
there  when  you  arrive,  and  speak  to  you  like  a  man." 

At  the  appointed  hour,  next  day,  the  General  was  in 
the  Beaufort  parlor,  holding  bland  converse  w^ith  the 
destined  victim  of  his  well-intentioned  guile.  He  had 
summoned  up  all  his  courage,  and  he  looked  as  steady 
as  a  veteran  battalion.  The  discourse  turned  upon 
Norah  Macmorran. 


222  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  I  think  she  is  as  lovely  as  her  voice,"  said  Virginia, 
with  honest  warmth.    "  I  think  she  is  thoroughly  good." 

"  Charmingly,  touchingly  good,"  answered  the  Gen- 
eral, remembering  the  pathetic  scene  in  the  Champs- 
Elysees. 

"  She  gets  that  sweetly  modest  way  from  the  Sis- 
ters," added  Virginia.  "  A  great  many  Catholic  girls 
have  it.  It  is  a  sincere  expression,  too,  in  Norah's  case. 
I  believe  it  really  represents  her  character." 

"  I  think  a  great  deal  better  of  the  girl  than  I  did 
at  first,"  put  in  ]Mrs.  Dumont,  with  a  certain  air  of  con- 
descension, very  proper  in  a  Beaufort.  "  I  had  a  preju- 
dice against  her  for  a  time.     But  she  is  a  good  child." 

*'  I  wish  I  were  young  enough  to  marry  her,"  declared 
the  General.     "  I  think  as  well  of  her  as  that." 

"  Don't  take  her  away  from  De  Bethune,"  Virginia 
laughed.  "  I  believe  there  is  a  chance  of  a  match  there, 
if  you  won't  interfere." 

"Is  there!"  exclaimed  Hilton,  delighted  with  the 
idea,  and  delighted  that  she  should  seem  to  like  it. 
"  Hope  he  may  get  her.     He's  a  nice  fellow." 

"  I  thought  you  didn't  admire  him,"  innocently  re- 
marked Mrs.  Dumont. 

"  Oh  !  he  improves  on  acquaintance,"  said  the  Gen- 
eral, with  equal  simplicity.  "  I  don't  feel  sure,  how- 
ever, that  he  is  good  enough  for  Miss  Macmorran.  She 
is  very  lovable.  I  must  say  that  I  like  that  nunnery 
manner.  I  wish  the  monastic  orders  had  the  schooling 
of  some  of  our  Protestant  hoydens.  There  is  Mrs.  Lo- 
tharinga  Fitz  James,  for  example — " 

"  Hush  !  "  interrupted  Virginia.  "  Some  one  is  in 
the  passage." 

In  fact,  there  came  a  light  tapping  at  the  door.   The 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  223 

General,  who  expected  Underbill,  turned  an  alarmed 
face  in  that  direction  ;  but  the  visitor  proved  to  be 
merely  the  genial  and  silvery  Mr.  Frank  Hedstone. 

"  Ladies,  your  most  obedient,"  he  smiled  and  bowed 
in  his  mock-ceremonious  way. — "  Mon  General^  salut 
au  her  OS — in  plain  English,  Hail  to  the  chief  ! — Miss 
Beaufort,  where  is  my  sister  ?  Any  other  person  will 
do  as  well  who  can  lend  me  twenty  napoleons." 

"  We  are  afraid  you  will  spend  them,  Mr.  Hedstone," 
said  Virginia.  "  If  you  would  only  keep  them  in  your 
pocket  till  the  time  for  repaying  them —  Do  you  really 
want  twenty  napoleons  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  he  laughed.  "  But  I  won't  take  them 
from  you.     On  reflection,  I  prefer  family  gold." 

"  Your  sister  would  have  been  very  welcome,"  put 
in  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Why  didn't  you  bring  her  your- 
self ?  " 

"  Another  gentleman  was  to  do  that,"  said  Hedstone. 
"A  brother   seldom   gets   the   privilege   of    being  an 

escort." 

"  Not  when  the  sister  is  pretty  and  admired,"  Vir- 
ginia smiled. 

"  Yes,  it's  the  plain  sisters,  I  suppose,  who  are  fond 

of  their  brothers." 

"  I  don't  think  a  girl  who  has  been  coiTectly  edu- 
cated would  ever  be  indifferent  to  the  company  of  a 
brother,"  affirmed  Mrs.  Dumont,  a  lady  who  never  ut- 
tered a  joke  and  rarely  understood  one  —  a  lady  who 
had  no  conception  of  the  number  of  jokes  in  the 
world. 

"  But  where  is  Lotharinga  ?  "  asked  Virginia.  "  Did 
you  really  expect  to  find  her  here  ?  " 

Hedstone  looked  surprised  and  then  amused.     His 


224:  THE  BLOODY  Off  ASM. 

clever  sister  had  promised  to  give  the  Beauf  orts  notice 
that  she  would  call  on  them  with  Colonel  Peyton,  so 
that  they  might  not  fail  to  be  at  home.  She  had  prom- 
ised this,  and  had  not  done  it.  But  her  stratagem  had 
failed  ;  the  Beauf  orts  had  not  chanced  to  go  out :  the 
Colonel  would  see  Virginia. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  she  will  come,"  said  the  brother, 
on  due  reflection.     "  But  I  had  looked  for  it." 

"  She  is  very  much  occupied,  I  believe,  with  some 
Virginia  gentleman,"  remarked,  or  rather  queried,  Mrs. 
Dumont. 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  is  making  a  conquest,"  Virginia  added, 

gayly. 

"  I  think  a  conquest  is  being  made,"  said  Hedstone. 
"  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  Lottie  who  is  making  it." 

The  ladies  smiled,  but  they  stared  also.  How  could 
a  brother  thus  joke  about  his  sister,  even  though  she 
were  a  widow  and  a  gay  one  ?  They  seemed  to  be  say- 
ing within  themselves  that  no  such  reckless  speech  had 
ever  been  uttered  in  the  Beaufort  family.  Meantime 
the  General  furtively  glanced  at  the  door,  as  if  he  feared 
that  Underhill  would  never  come,  and  that  he  might 
even  have  been  run  off  with  by  Mrs.  Fitz  James  !  Of 
a  sudden  he  heard  the  penetrating  tinkle  of  her  voice 
in  the  hall  ;  and  his  eyes  turned  upon  Virginia  with  an 
expression  of  anxiety  near  akin  to  fright.  If  ever  he 
had  been  so  scared  in  battle,  he  certainly  could  not  re- 
collect it. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  225 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


Although  Mrs.  Fitz  James  had  not  wanted  to  bring 
her  Colonel  to  see  Virginia,  there  was  no  sign  of  this 
unwillingness  in  her  face  and  manner  when  she  dashed 
into  the  Beaufort  parlor.  Her  eyes  sparkled  and  her  lips 
radiated  smiles  as  she  kissed  the  two  ladies,  nodded  to 
the  General,  made  a  mouth  at  her  brother,  and  turned 
to  her  companion,  all  in  the  twinkling  of  a  will-o'-the- 
wisp. 

"  My  dears,  this  is  Colonel  Peyton — Virginian,  pa- 
triot, and  poet,"  was  her  gay  introduction. — "  Colonel, 
this  is  Mrs.  Dumont,  and  this  is  Miss  Beaufort." 

Underhill,  standing  near  the  door,  bowed  gravely 
and  in  silence,  first  to  his  wife's  aunt,  and  then  to  his 
wife.  He  was  at  the  moment  very  handsome,  and  they 
must  have  thought  so.  He  was  quite  pale  ;  his  eyes 
settled  upon  Virginia  with  impressive  earnestness  ;  his 
expression  had  the  pathos  of  longing  and  anxiety.  Not 
until  he  had  turned  to  Hilton  was  he  able  to  utter  a 
word.  Then,  extending  his  hand,  he  simply  said  in  a 
low  voice,  "  I  am'glad  to  meet  you." 

"  Glad  to  meet  you — Peyton,"  stammered  the  Gen- 
eral, repeating  the  salutation  mechanically,  but  manag- 
ing to  get  in  the  right  name. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  glanced  uneasily  around  this  scene 
of  mysterious  but  discernible  emotion.  Mrs.  Dumont 
gazed  with  innocent,  cordial  respect  at  a  gentleman  who 
wore  the  gray  and  who  bore  the  honored  name  of  Pey- 
ton. Virginia  was  also  greatly  interested  ;  she  had  al- 
ready heard  from  Lotharinga  that  the  Colonel  was  a 
poet  ;  and  to  her  mind  there  was  no  other  title  on  earth 
so  fascinating  as  that.     Moreover,  there  must  have  been 


226  TEE   BLOODY  CHASM. 

a  potent  flattery — unconscious,  perhaps,  but  none  the 
less  ingratiating — in  the  discovery  that  this  man  faced 
her  with  respect  and  even  with  agitation.  Her  expres- 
sion was  that  of  one  who  wishes  to  say  her  kindliest, 
but  who  can  not  think  of  the  right  phrase. 

Mrs.  Dumont  graciously  came  to  the  rescue  ;  she 
seated  the  visitor  and  made  him  quite  an  oration.  She 
said  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him  ;  that  she  was  always 
glad  to  see  Virginians  ;  that  she  was  particularly  pleased 
to  meet  a  person  of  his  name  ;  that  she  was  honored  by 
a  call  from  a  gentleman  who  had  worn  the  gray.  Un- 
derhill  was  too  much  bewildered  to  note  her  harangue 
precisely,  and  he  could  only  respond  to  it  by  bowing 
repeatedly  and  smiling  patiently.  Thereupon  the  good 
lady  guessed  that  he  was  still  suffering  from  his  wounds, 
and  insisted  with  fervid  sympathy  that  he  should  take 
a  certain  large  easy-chair. 

"  Don't  assign  it  to  me,"  said  Underbill,  who  had 
courteously  risen  when  she  rose.  "  Here  is  the  General, 
who  is  far  worthier." 

They  were  the  first  words  that  he  had  uttered,  and 
they  made  an  exceedingly  favorable*  impression.  Vir- 
ginia smiled  in  his  face  with  bright  approval,  and  im- 
pulsively signed  him  to  a  seat  near  herself.  He  took 
it,  and  then  spoke  to  her,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
unless  the  marriage-vows  might  be  called  discourse. 

"You  are  very  kind  to  receive  me,"  he  said  in  a 
murmurous  monotone,  the  voice  of  a  man  striving  to 
hide  emotion.     "  I  am  a  stranger  to  nearly  everybody 

in  Paris." 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  receive  any  Confederate  sol- 
dier," were  the  first  words  of  the  Southern  wife  to  the 
!N'orthern  husband. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  227 

Underhill  hesitated,  and  no  wonder.  It  was  very 
difficult  to  talk  at  all,  under  the  circumstances  ;  and  it 
was  especially  difficult  to  make  suitable  response  to  such 
a  welcome.  After  pausing  for  a  moment,  he  added 
dreamily  and  soberly,  "  So  you  are  devoted  to  the  lost 
cause  ?  " 

"  I  lost  too  much  with  it  not  to  be  devoted  to  it," 
she  said,  with  honest  seriousness. 

He  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  her  full  in  the  face  ; 
he  seemed  to  be  studying  her,  and  also  approving. 
"  That  is  a  noble  sentiment,  allow  me  to  tell  you,"  he 
declared.  "Most  people  hate  the  vessels  that  have 
shipwrecked  them." 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  turned  to  Hilton,  and  whispered — 
loud  enough  for  Underhill  to  hear  :  "  Isn't  that  splendid  ? 
He's  a  poet,  you  know." 

The  General  mumbled  something  about  some  people 
living  poetry,  and  then  hemmed  loudly,  as  if  ashamed 
of  himself  for  not  being  able  to  talk. 

"Colonel,"  said  Virginia,  "I  don't  think  a  sailor 
hates  his  ship,  even  if  it  has  wrecked  him." 

He  smiled  with  an  air  of  being  pleased  with  her 
cleverness  ;  he  had  perhaps  been  fearful  of  finding  his 
wife  stupid. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  he  answered.  "  There  were 
no  passengers  at  the  South  ;  everybody  belonged  to  the 
ship's  company." 

"  Except  the  mountain  mutineers  and  the  bomb-proof 
skulks,"  put  in  the  General,  finding  at  last  something  to 
say.     "Of  the  two,  I  liked  the  mountain-men  best." 

"  Horrid  wretches  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Ly- 
ing out  in  the  woods,  and  shooting  at  our  patrols  ! " 

"But  they  fought,  madame,"  insisted  the  old  sol- 


228  THE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

dier,  as  if  fighting  covered  a  multitude  of  sins,  wliich 
indeed  was  his  gospel.  "They  fought  like  wolres. 
They  didn't  disgrace  the  name  of  Southerner  by  squat- 
ting in  the  grass  like  turkeys." 

"It's  a  satisfaction  to  think  that  the  grass  waves 
over  a  good  many  of  them  ! "  declared  Mrs.  Dumont. 
She  did  not  utter  the  bitter  words  rancorously,  but 
rather  as  if  she  had  got  into  a  way  of  saying  such  things 
during  the  war,  and  continued  to  do  it  from  habit  rather 
than  from  feeling. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Dumont,  you  and  I  didn't  have  our  fight 
out,"  smiled  that  light  mocker,  Hedstone.  "  I  am  very 
warlike  to  this  day.     All  good  Baltimoreans  are." 

"  Isn't  he  shameful,  Colonel  Peyton,  to  make  fun  of 
his  own  city  ?  "  giggled  Mrs.  Fitz  James. 

But  the  Colonel  did  not  hear  her.  During  this  brief 
dialogue  about  the  war  he  had  been  furtively  and  in- 
tently watching  his  wife.  It  was  necessarily  a  point  of 
great  interest  vsrith  him  to  learn  whether  she  still  sym- 
pathized passionately  with  the  old  Confederate /*wror. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  rose  in  a  pet,  rustled  over  to  Hil- 
ton, and  dropped  into  a  chair  by  his  side,  saying, 
"  Come,  General,  you  and  I  will  have  a  tUe-d-ttteP 

"With  all  my  heart,"  returned  Underhill's  friend 
and  confederate.  "  But  I  have  no  small  talk ;  you 
must  entertain  me.  Do  let  me  lead  you  to  the  piano 
and  beg  of  you  a  Scotch  ballad.  I  can't  understand 
Virginia's  learned  music — Wagner's  stuff  and  that  sort 
of  thing — very  pleasant  to  wagoners,  I  dare  say." 

"  Oh  !  well,"  muttered  Lotharinga,  discontentedly, 
but  suffering  herself  to  be  beguiled.  "I  can't  play, 
you  know.     But  I'll  murder  something." 

Then  Mrs.  Dumont,  either  because  she  felt  bound  to 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  229 

do  the  hospitable  to  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  or  because  she 
had  discovered  that  the  noble  Virginian  stranger  wished 
to  converse  with  her  niece  rather  than  w^th  herself, 
suggested  to  Mr.  Hedstone  that  they  two  should  step 
over  to  the  musical  end  of  the  saloon  and  help  make  an 
audience. 

"  What !  to  hear  my  sister  play  ?  "  he  smiled.    "  Well 
anything  for  a  joke." 

Thus  it  happened  at  last  that  the  guileful  Underhill 
had  his  unsuspecting  wife  a  little  to  himself.  For  a 
time,  however,  the  conversation  was  far  from  agreeable 
to  him  ;  it  seemed  impossible  to  drag  it  away  from  that 
old  and  angry  subject,  the  war.  Virginia  still  had  the 
siege  of  Charleston  much  at  heart,  and  she  told  him  a 
good  deal  about  the  perils  and  hardships  of  the  be- 
leaguered citizens. 

"  You  must  have  found  it  very  trying,"  he  said,  ea- 
ger to  have  her  speak  of  herself. 

"I  didn't,"  she  replied.     "I  always  hoped  to  beat." 

He  strove  to  smile,  but  he  looked  anxious.  There 
was  a  tone  of  pluck  and  pugnacity  in  the  speech  which 
made  him  fear  that  he  should  never  win  her. 

"  But  oh,  what  a  disappointment ! "  she  added. 
"  What  a  wretched  end  it  all  came  to  !  " 

"  Would  you  prefer  to  talk  of  something  else  ?  "  he 
asked,  hopefully. 

"  I  am  always  coming  back  to  that  doleful  war,"  she 
answered.  "  It  is  like  a  nightmare  ;  one  struggles  out 
of  it  only  to  drop  back  into  it  :  it  seems  as  if  it  would 
last  all  one's  life." 

Of  course,  he  wanted  to  argue  against  giving  up  to 
the  nightmare,  "  Perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  make  an 
effort  to  diminish  the  strength  of  the  recollection,"  he 


(I 


230  TffB  BLOODY  CHASM. 

said.     "  It  is  unwise  to  live  constantly  in  the  past,  espe- 
cially when  it  has  been  an  unhappy  one." 

"I  can  only  forget  it  in  music,"  sighed  Virginia. 
Then,  looking  up  at  him  with  bright  interest,  she  added. 
And  you,  I  suppose,  forget  it  in  poetry." 
I  am  not  really  a  poet — Miss  Beaufort." 

It  evidently  cost  the  husband  an  effort  to  call  his 
wife  by  this  name.  General  Hilton  heard  it  through 
the  tinkling  of  "  Annie  Laurie,"  and  looked  around  up- 
on Underhill  with  a  cautious  but  cheering  smile.  The 
hero  was  clearly  not  attending  to  Lotharinga's  melo- 
dies. 

"  Mrs.  Fitz  James  has  spoken  to  me  about  your 
verses,"  Virginia  continued,  timidly  but  eagerly.  "  She 
tells  me  they  are  beautiful." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  name  for  them.  They  are  verses, 
and  nothing  more.     They  have  measure  and  rhyme." 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  them,"  returned  the  girl  with  a 
longing  intonation  w^hich  was  really  childlike.  "You 
are  the  only  poet  I  know.  Do  you  ever  write  about 
the  lost  cause  ?  " 

"  Naturally — a  little.  It  is  not  an  alluring  subject. 
I  prefer  to  turn  away  from  it." 

"  I  should  think  indignation  and  grief  would  bring 
inspiration.     Of  course  you  are  indignant  and  grieved." 

"  There  is  something  potent  in  an  accomplished  fact. 
When  a  thing  is  done — " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  is  done,"  interrupted  Virginia  with 
something  like  vehemence.  "We  are  crushed  com- 
pletely and  for  ever.  I  never  quite  realized  it  till  I  got 
over  here  and  looked  at  the  whole  ruin  from  a  distance." 

There  was  a  brief  pause  in  the  dialogue.  Meantime 
the  music  continued  to  clatter  from  the  other  end  of 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  231 

the  long  room.  The  astute  General,  now  in  full  pos- 
session of  his  wits,  would  not  suffer  Mrs.  Fitz  James  to 
quit  the  piano,  and  kept  begging  for  one  and  another 
well-worn  air.  What  the  playing  lacked  in  time  and 
tune  it  made  up  in  duration  and  racket.  Underhill 
and  his  wife  had  been  obliged  to  lean  toward  each 
other  to  hear  each  other's  words.  The  situation  tended 
to  intimacy,  and  they  were  already  on  a  friendly  foot- 
ing. 

"  Still,  I  should  write  about  the  lost  cause,  if  I  could 
write,"  resumed  Virginia.  Then,  with  a  smile  which 
was  both  an  apology  and  a  beseeching,  she  added, 
"  Will  you  show  me  something  about  our  great  strug- 
gle ?  " 

"  It  will  be  much  meaner  than  the  struggle.  But  I 
will  venture  to  show  you  something." 

Virginia's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure  and  with 
longing.  "Twant  a  great  favor,"  she  said.  "I  want 
you  to  write  a  piece  for  rue.  My  professor  shall  set  it 
to  music,  and  I  will  sing  it." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy,"  promised  Underhill,  his 
face  flushed  with  joy.  "  What  shall  it  be  ?  Have  you 
any  particular  subject  at  heart  ?  " 

Virginia's  brow  crisped  slightly  ;  she  was  thinking 
of  her  dearest  brother.  "  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  Pick- 
ett's charge  at  Gettysburg." 

"It  was  a  superb  feat  of  arms,"  said  the  ex-Colonel 
of  Union  volunteers.  "  I  saw  it,  though  I  didn't  take 
part  in  it.     I  can  write  about  that." 

"  Oh,  when  ? "  asked  the  eager  rebel  and  fervid 
adorer  of  poetry — "  when  shall  I  see  it  ?  " 

"  As  soon  as  I  can  do  it.  Verses  come  uncertainly 
— at  least  to  me." 


232  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Do  they  ?  Why,  of  course  they  do.  Inspiration 
must." 

"  You  will  make  a  poet  of  me,"  he  smiled. 

"  I  must !  I  do  so  want  a  poet — a  great  jjoet  of  the 
Southland — to  mourn  for  our  overthrow,  mourn  suitably 
for  our  dead.  I  want  such  a  poet  that  the  whole  world 
will  turn  and  hear." 

"  Alas  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  alas '  ?  " 

"  You  haven't  found  him." 

"How  do  I  know?  I  will  see.  Promise  to  bring 
me  the  verses." 

"  Of  course  I  promise  it,  and  with  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure.  I  will  bring  them  to-morrow  evening,  with 
your  permission — that  is,  if  I  can  finish  them." 

"  I  see  that  you  are  thinking  of  them  now,"  said 
Virginia,  gazing  at  him  with  a  kind  of  delighted  awe, 
which  would  have  amused  him  under  any  other  circum- 
stances, but  v/hich  now  gratified  and  fascinated  him. 
They  were  leaning  toward  each  other  and  looking 
steadily  in  each  other's  eyes,  like  two  familiar  and  dear 
friends,  almost  like  two  lovers.  Indeed,  his  gaze  be- 
came so  fervent  that  Virginia  colored  a  little  and  pres- 
ently drooped  her  lashes  floorward. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Fitz  James  stopped  playing, 
whirled  about  on  the  piano-stool,  and  faced  them. 
"  There  !  "  she  exclaimed,  petulantly.  "  I  have  drummed 
and  thrummed  enough — all  I  am  going  to. — What  in 
the  world  are  you  two  talking  about  ?  You  look  like  a 
couple  of  conspirators. — Colonel  Peyton,  I  am  sorry  to 
tear  you  away,  but  I  must  go.  I  have  a  horrid,  hate- 
ful headache.     I  didn't  sleep  two  hours  last  night." 

"Don't  go,"  begged  Virginia,  as  Lotharinga  rose 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  233 

and  shook  out  her  raiment.  "  You  haven't  been  here 
ten  minutes.     I  haven't  had  a  word  with  you." 

"  I've  been  here  an  hour,  and  I'm  cross.  We  shall 
have  words  if  I  stay  any  longer.  Playing  always  does 
infuriate  my  nerves." 

"But  you  gratify  our  nerves,  Mrs.  Fitz  James," 
urged  the  General,  who  was  most  anxious  to  prolong 
the  interview  between  the  two  young  mamed  people. 

"Yes,  I  soothe  you  to  sleep,  I  suppose,"  snapped  the 
unhappy  little  lady,  taking  Underbill's  arm. — "  Come, 
Colonel,  say  good-by.  I  know  you  are  sorry,  but  I 
can't  help  it.     You  can  happen  in  some  other  time." 

Underbill  turned  to  his  wife  and  shook  hands  with 
her,  saying  in  a  tone  which  evidently  surprised  her, 
"  Good-by,  Miss  Beaufort." 

Hedstone,  who  had  financial  business  with  his  sister, 
as  we  remember,  followed  the  departing  couple.  The 
General  was  left  alone  with  Mrs.  Dumont  and  Virginia. 
There  was  that  moment  of  prudent  silence  which  fol- 
lows the  closing  of  a  door  on  visitors.  Then  Under- 
bill's accomplice  glanced  from  face  to  face  of  the  two 
ladies,  and  smilingly  inquired,  "  Well,  how  do  you  like 
my  friend  Peyton  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  noble  specimen  of  a  Virginian,"  declared 
Mrs.  Dumont. 

"  I  like  him  very  much,"  said  Virginia. 

"I  knew  you  would,"  responded  the  General,  his 
smile  nearly  turning  to  a  laugh. 


234  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


DuKiNG  the  next  day  Yirginia  received  and  declined 
a  pressing  invitation  from  Mrs.  Fitz  James  to  attend 
the  Grand  Opera.  As  evening  drew  near,  she  directed 
Aunt  Chloe  to  admit  no  visitors  but  General  Hilton  and 
Colonel  Peyton.  When  darkness  fell,  she  seated  herself 
at  a  window  looking  out  upon  the  street,  and  persisted 
in  reading  there  by  the  far-away  gas-jet  of  the  center- 
table  chandelier,  glancing  from  time  to  time  at  the 
dimly  illuminated  pavements  below.  At  last,  rising 
with  a  hasty  rustle,  she  said,  in  an  elated  voice,  "  He  is 
coming — I  know  his  walk  !  " 

Mrs.  Dumont  looked  up  with  an  air  of  astonishment, 
slightly  mingled  with  uneasiness.  Her  niece  familiar 
already  with  the  gait  of  this  acquaintance  of  a  day  !  It 
was  almost  unbecoming  in  a  Beaufort  ;  it  was  almost 
alarming  in  a  married  woman.  Oh,  if  something  would 
happen — if  there  could  be  somehow  a  release  from  that 
unfortunate  marriage — if  there  could  arrive  some  day  a 
worthy  nephew- in-law,  whether  French  noble  or  South- 
ern gentleman  !  But  in  the  mean  time  all  possible  re- 
serve and  decorum  must  be  observed  by  a  lady  of  the 
Beaufort  race.  Such  were  the  natural  and  unavoidable 
reflections  of  a  well-descended  and  highly  proper  aunt. 

"I  shall  be  so  disappointed  if  he  hasn't  brought 
his  poem  ! "  continued  the  frank  and  impulsive  young 
woman.  "  I  hope  he  has  brought  some  poem — don't 
vou  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  you  are  addled  about  poetry,"  said  Mrs. 
Dumont.  "  Well,  I  suppose  people  are,  at  your  age.  I 
remember  reading  '  Young's  Night  Thoughts '  over  and 
over,  when  I  was  a  girl." 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  235 

In  due  time  Underhill  made  his  entrance,  and  was 
welcomed  by  his  wife  as  Colonel  Peyton.  "I  am  so 
much  obliged  to  you  for  not  forgetting  your  promise," 
she  added.     "  I  hope  you  remembered  the  whole  of  it." 

She  almost  watched  his  pockets,  like  a  child  hoping 
for  a  cake.  If  she  looked  him  in  the  face,  it  was  unob- 
servantly.  The  eagerness  was  for  the  poem,  rather  than 
for  the  poet. 

"I  have  been  lucky,"  he  answered,  smiling  at  her 
interest — it  was  so  naive,  and  yet  so  gratifying.  *'I 
had  an  inspiration,  as  you  would  call  it."  Then,  as  she 
seated  him  in  a  chair  by  the  lighted  center-table,  he 
asked  :  "  Are  you  going  to  set  me  at  my  task  at  once  ? 
I  would  rather  hear  you  play  and  sing." 

"  I  want  the  poem  first,"  said  Virginia,  laughing  and 
blushing  at  her  own  tyranny,  but  meanwhile  arranging 
the  gas-jets  for  him.  "  Af tei'  that  I  will  sing  as  long  as 
you  wish." 

"  Please  remember  that  I  am  not  a  poet — only  a 
versifier,"  begged  Underhill.  "  Accept  the  modest 
apology  of  a  humble  author,"  he  added,  looking  in  her 
eyes  with  a  smile.  He  seemed,  by-the-way,  to  be  quite 
at  ease  with  his  wife.  Ko  doubt,  he  believed  that  he 
had  already  made  an  agreeable  impression. 

"  Go  on  ;  we  are  waiting  to  hear,"  was  Virginia's 
only  response.  Then  Underhill  drew  forth  his  sheet  of 
note-paper,  and  in  a  firm,  manly  voice  read  his  ballad  of 

"Pickett's  Charge. 

"  The  war  had  robbed  the  cradle, 
The  war  had  robbed  the  grave, 
And  boys  with  ringlets  golden 
Bore  bayonet  and  glaive, 


236  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

And  grandsires  flung  their  olden 

Thin  hair  to  battle's  wave, 
"When  Pickett  charged  the  folden 

Pale  mists  where  slaughters  rave. 

"  He  trode  the  smitten  valley, 

The  mountain's  hissing  glade. 
Right  through  the  cannon-thunder, 

Right  through  the  fusillade, 
Till  rank  tore  rank  asunder 

With  bayonet  and  blade — 
Till  Earth  rose  up  in  wonder 

To  see  the  death  he  made. 

"  Five  thousand  were  his  heroes, 

Three  thousand  those  who  bled; 
They  marched  without  a  shiver 

To  join  the  knightly  dead  ; 
They  crossed  the  ghostly  river 

With  swift  and  steady  tread  ; 
And  fame  shall  shine  for  ever 

Around  that  column's  head. 

*'  The  war  had  robbed  the  cradle, 

The  war  had  robbed  the  tomb. 
And  men  whose  hair  was  hoary 

And  youngsters  in  their  bloom 
Went  shouting  through  the  glory 

Which  folds  where  cannon  boom, 
When  Pickett  charged  the  gory 

Sublimities  of  doom." 

When  Underhill  looked  up  from  his  reading,  Vir- 
ginia's head  was  drooped  and  one  of  her  hands  was 
over  her  face.  When  she  spoke,  it  was  simply  to  say  in 
a  low,  broken  voice,  "  O  Mr.  Peyton  !  "     Then,  with 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  237 

a  sobbing  burst  of  "  I  can't  help  it !  "  she  rose  and  hast- 
ened out  of  the  room. 

Mrs.  Dumont  glanced  after  her,  wiped  her  own  eyes 
for  a  moment,  and  whispered,  "  She  lost  a  brother  there 
— my  youngest  nephew." 

"  I  never  guessed  that,"  murmured  Underhill,  in  a 
tone  of  compunction.    "  Pickett's  men  were  Virginians." 

"  He  was  a  staff-officer,"  the  aunt  sighed.  "  He 
would  join  in  the  charge.  A  Beaufort  must,  you 
know," 

"It  is  very  sad,"  replied  the  young  man,  looking 
anxiously  after  his  wife. 

Just  then  she  reappeared,  advanced  excitedly  to  the 
table,  picked  up  the  slip  of  manuscript  and  kissed  it. 
"  It  is  an  epitaph,"  she  said.  "  There  will  be  more  than 
kisses  on  it ;  there  will  be  tears."  Next,  fixing  her  wet 
eyes  on  him  with  an  air  of  wonder,  she  asked,  "  Oh  ! 
how  could  you  write  it  ?  " 

"  As  I  told  you,  I  saw  the  charge,"  replied  Under- 
bill, after  a  moment  of  hesitation.  "It  was  a  noble 
feat  of  arms." 

"  Yes — oh,  wasn't  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Virginia,  her  eyes 
flashing  with  something  like  exultation,  notwithstand- 
ing the  tears  in  them.  "  '  And  fame  shall  shine  for  ever 
around  that  column's  head  ! ' "  she  repeated.  "  I  do 
thank  you  so  earnestly.  Colonel  Peyton  !  Your  verses 
will  help  it  to  shine  there." 

"  No,"  he  responded,  shaking  his  head  and  smiling. 

"  They  will,^'^  insisted  the  excited  girl.  "  It  is  a 
noble  poem.     I  know  it  is.     It  touches  my  heart." 

"  You  are  to  sing  it  for  me,  you  know,"  he  reminded 
her. 

"  As  soon  as  it  is  set  to  music,  and  I  have  learned 


238  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

it,"  she  proiiiiscMl.  '■'■  Oli,  I  shall  sing  it,  and  you  shall 
hoar  nio  !  I  fool  just  now  as  though  I  never  should 
want  to  sing  anything  else." 

It  must  have  seemed  to  Underhill  that  he  was  mak- 
ing a  eoTU]uest  of  his  wife.  He  looked  so  gratified  and 
also  so  faseinated  that  it  is  a  wonder  she  did  not  suspect 
his  identity.  Possihly  she  might  have  divined  him,  but 
for  a  iixed  belief  that  her  Yankee  husband  was  a  dread- 
ful creature  who  necessarily  regarded  her  with  ill-will, 
and  whom  she  would  instinctively  fly  from  at  the  first 
glance. 

"I  should  like  to  have  you  give  me  back  that  manu- 
script, some  day,"  he  ventured  to  add.  "  You  have 
made  it  precious  in  my  eyes.  I  never  had  such  a  trib- 
ute before." 

Apparently  Virginia  took  some  slight  alarm  from 
the  fervor  of  his  manner.  "  1  want  to  copy  it  first,"  she 
replied  simply,  and  immediately  changed  the  subject. 
"  The  whole  war  ought  to  be  written  over  with  song," 
she  declared.  "  Was  there  ever  such  aiuither  theme  for 
verse?  T  should  think  it  would  inspire  every  poet  of 
the  South  to  do  wonders.  Isn't  it  a  glorious  subject  ? 
Y"ou  couldn't  write  in  this  way  about  Yankees  ?  " 

Underhill  pondered.  Should  he  say  Y^es,  or  No  ? 
Should  he  speak  against  Y^ankees,  or  for  them  ?  These 
questions  and  hesitations  would  naturally  Hit  through 
the  mind  of  a  man  in  his  position. 

"  I  might,"  he  at  last  replied  ;  and  then  came  this 
sharj)  dialogue  : 

Mrginia.  "  AVhat !     About  those  cowards  ?  " 

Underhill  ((piietly).   "  AVere  they  cowards  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont.  *'  Certainly  they  were,  and  Vandals 
to  boot." 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  239 

Underhill.  "  My  dear  madam,  do  think  how  impos- 
sible that  is.  How  could  a  land  of  brave  men  be  over- 
run by  cowards  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Well,  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure  ;  un- 
less there  was  some  Yankee  trickery  about  it." 

Virginia.  "  Colonel  Peyton,  you  astonish  me.  I 
admit  that  what  you  say  seems  rational.  But  how  can 
a  Southerner  say  it  ?  " 

Underhill  (smiling).  "  Why  not  ?  Why  shouldn't  a 
Southerner  say  something  rational  ?  " 

Virginia.  "  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  you— to 
write  so  eloquently — and  then  joke  !  " 

Underhill  (pensively).  "I  find  that  I  can  write  with 
sympathy  on  almost  any  subject,  if  I  think  of  it  long 
enough." 

Virginia  (after  a  long  gaze  at  him).  "  Oh,  it  must 
be  the  impartiality  of  genius.  I  have  read  of  that  some- 
where. Like  Shakespeare  and  Homer.  They  write 
kindly  about  both  sides — heroes  and  villains — Greeks 
and  Trojans.     It  must  be  the  impartiality  of  genius." 

Underhill  (amused).  "Not  in  my  case  ;  it  can't  be 
that.  [Seriously.]  I  suppose  it  is  the  impartiality  of  a 
soldier.  A  soldier  learns  at  last  to  worship  valor,  no 
matter  where  found." 

Again  Virginia  studied  him  with  a  perplexed  gaze. 
She  evidently  considered  him  a  puzzle,  and  held  that  he 
could  not  explain  himself,  or  at  least  did  not.  At  last 
she  recommenced  her  questioning.  "  But  how  can  you 
begin  to  think  sympathetically  of  a  hateful  subject  ? 
Tell  me.     I  am  insatiably  curious  about  poetry." 

*'  Oh,  a  line  comes — I  don't  know  how  or  why — and 
then  its  fellow  comes.  Pretty  soon  the  interest,  the 
sympathy,   awakes.     I   take  another   man's   place  and 


24:0  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

divine  his  feelings.  After  a  while  I  am  eager  to  finish 
the  work  ;  I  can't  let  it  alone  till  it  is  done." 

''  Ah,  dear  !  I  wish  I  could  do  it,"  she  sighed.  "  Poe- 
try is  my  adoration  and  my  wonder.  But  you  ought 
not  to  degrade  it,"  she  added,  with  a  vehement  shake  of 
the  head.  "  If  ever  you  do  write  a  nice  poem  about  our 
enemies,  I  don't  want  you  to  show  it  to  me." 

Underhill  waited  a  moment,  as  an  archer  waits  for  a 
gust  to  pass  before  he  shoots,  and  then  asked,  "  Hadn't 
I  better  show  you  just  one — merely  as  a  curiosity  ?  " 

Virginia  fell  back  in  her  chair  and  reflected,  before 
she  answered.  "  Well,  perhaps — when  I  am  more  pre- 
pared to  bear  it — just  one,"  she  finally  said.  *'  It  icould 
be  a  curiosity." 

Underhill  watched  her  with  a  tranquil  expression  of 
grave  interest.  He  had  by  this  time  got  used  to  his 
situation,  and  was  able  to  study  her  calmly  and  intelli- 
gently. Presently  he  ventured  to  put  her  a  personal 
question  :  "  What  do  you  mean  by  saying  that  you 
may  be  more  prepared  to  bear  it  ?  Are  time  and  dis- 
tance telling  on  the  old  feelings  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  burst  out  Virginia,  almost  angrily.  "  Isn't 
it  horrible  ?  It  is  like  forgetting  the  dead  ;  it  is  for- 
getting them." 

"  It  may  be  best,"  he  replied,  gently.  "  Probably 
it  is  best  to  remember  chiefly  living  facts  and  living 
men." 

"How  can  it  be  best  when  it  is  shameful?"  de- 
manded the  passionate  child  of  the  South.  "  It  is  shock- 
ing to  think  of  forgetting  my  State — its  heroic  ideas 
and  sorrowful  failure — its  thousands  of  martyrs  to  lib- 
erty, and  its  innumerable  mourners.  What  a  disgrace 
and  wickedness  to  let  all  that  fade  out  of  one's  mind  ! 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  241 

And  yet,  distance  does  fade  it,  and  the  splendor  of  Eu- 
rope helps,  and  the  lapse  of  time  also.  It  is  unpardon- 
able, and  still  I  can't  help  it." 

There  was  more  of  this  fervid  reminiscence  and  self- 
condemnatory  confession.  There  was  an  eager  talk 
about  the  war,  and  about  the  growing  torpor  of  mem- 
ory concerning  it,  all  considerably  cheering  to  Under- 
bill. At  last  he  remembered  that  he  had  made  a  loner 
call,  and  with  extreme  unwillingness  he  rose  to  depart. 

"  What,  so  quick  !  "  exclaimed  the  frank  young  wom- 
an. "  I  had  a  dozen  questions  to  ask  you.  You  must 
call  again  before  long,  to  answer  them." 

Then,  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  hearing,  she  snatched 
up  his  verses  and  declaimed  passionately  : 

"  They  marched  without  a  shiver 

To  join  the  knightly  dead ; 
They  crossed  the  ghostly  river 

With  swift  and  steady  tread ; 
And  fame  shall  shine  for  ever 

Around  that  column's  head  I  " 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

During  the  next  week  the  Colonel  was  two  or  three 
times  at  his  wife's  apartments.  He  called,  on  various 
pretexts — once  to  leave  somebody's  poems,  once  to  ask 
whether  De  Bethune  had  yet  found  an  air  for  his  bal- 
lad, and  once  to  bring  a  bouquet.  No  account  will  be 
given  of  these  agreeable  but  indecisive  interviews,  f ur- 
11 


242  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

ther  than  to  say  that  he  succeeded  in  making  himself  a 
most  welcome  visitor. 

Meantime  the  pretty  Baltimore  lady  was  a  real  per- 
plexity to  him.  At  no  time  of  day  and  in  no  part  of 
the  Hotel  du  Louvre  was  he  comfortably  sure  that  he 
would  not  either  meet  her  or  get  a  billet  from  her.  Of 
course,  he  had  pungent  reasons  for  desiring  that  be- 
tween her  and  him  there  should  be  nothing  more  than 
civil  acquaintance.  In  the  first  place,  it  troubled  his 
now  sensitive  conscience  to  remember  that  he,  a  mar- 
ried man,  was  passing  himself  off  upon  her  as  a  bache- 
lor. Furthermore,  there  was  danger  that  the  least  show 
of  intimacy  would  be  reported  to  Virginia  as  court- 
ship, and  would  lead  her  to  regard  him  as  a  serious  suitor 
of  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  or  as  a  flirt.  Finally,  he  was  in  the 
state  of  mind  of  an  ingenuous  boy  who  is  in  love  ;  he  did 
not  want  to  be  liked  by  anybody  but  the  right  person  ; 
he  positively  hated  to  be  liked  by  the  wrong  person. 

The  result  was,  that  he  carefully  dodged  the  good- 
will which  followed  him.  One  day  in  particular,  when 
he  had  received  an  invitation  from  Virginia  to  call  in  the 
evening,  he  kept  out  of  the  hotel  from  morn  till  dewy 
eve,  and  later.  He  made  a  tour  of  the  sights  and  won- 
ders of  Paris.  He  took  his  noonday  meal  in  a  retired 
restaurant  of  the  Latin  quarter.  At  last  he  chanced 
into  the  Luxembourg,  and  there  stumbled  upon  the  co- 
lossal apparition  of  General  Hilton,  posted  between  Miil- 
ler's  "  Calling  of  the  Condemned  "  and  Couture's  "  De- 
cadence of  the  Romans,"  and  surveying  them  alternately 
with  an  air  of  noble  indignation.  The  high-minded 
hero,  it  must  be  understood,  was  as  yet  inclined  to  judge 
a  picture  by  its  subject  rather  than  by  that  merely  ad- 
ventitious circumstance,  the  handling  of  the  artist. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  213 

Underbill  briefly  narrated  tbe  substance  of  bis  latest 
interview  witb  bis  wife.  Tbe  General  rejoiced,  uttered 
favorable  auguries,  and  tben  broke  into  wonder.  "  My 
dear  fellow,  I  don't  see  bow  you  can  do  it — bow  you 
can  face  ber,"  be  said.  "  Merely  to  bear  about  it  turns 
my  brain.  Tbe  evening  we  were  tbere  togetber  gave 
me  tbe  nigbtmare.  Well,  some  men  bave  all  kinds  of 
courage.  I  believe  you  would  bave  made  a  great  gen- 
eral— you  bave  tbe  coolness  and  tbe  stratagems." 

"  I  bave  tbe  courage  of  desperation,"  returned  Un- 
derbill. "  Tbere  is  notbing  to  be  done  but  wbat  I  am 
doing." 

"  Alas  !  no — but  tbe  end  justifies  you,"  declared  Hil- 
ton, wbo  was  still  troubled  by  tbe  deception  involved  in 
tbe  means. 

Tben  tbe  coloring  of  tbe  "  Decadence  "  caugbt  bis  eye 
once  more,  and  drew  from  bim  a  discourse  wbicb  would 
bave  astonisbed  Monsieur  Couture.  "  I  can't  belp  tbink- 
ing,  sir,  tbat  tbe  age  of  art  is  an  age  of  corruption,"  be 
said,  witb  noble  severity.  "  Tbere  was  no  art  in  Sparta, 
sir  ;  none  in  Rome  during  ber  grandest  days  ;  none  in 
tbe  forest  cantons  of  Switzerland.  I  tbank  Heaven,  sir, 
tbat  we  bave  none  in  Soutb  Carolina  !  " 

"  You  needn't  fear  any,  for  some  time  to  come,"  re- 
turned Underbill.  "  Art  doesn't  spring  up  in  tbinly  set- 
tled agricultural  districts.     It  needs  cities." 

"  Just  look  at  tbat  picture — tbe  *  Decline  of  tbe  Ro- 
mans,' "  continued  tbe  General  witb  increasing  vebe- 
mence.  "  Do  you  call  tbat  civilizing  and  refining  and 
purifying  ?  It  is  a  spectacle  of  crapulence  and  inde- 
cency. And  bere  is  tbis  otber — tbis  '  Calling  of  tbe  Con- 
demned ' — tbe  triumpb  of  tbe  plebeian  over  tbe  patrician 
— of  brutisbness  over  refinement  !      Tbey  are  botb,  to 


244  THE  BLOODY   CHASM. 

my  eye,  abominable  paintings.  Why  do  artists  select 
such  subjects  ?  Here  is  an  orgy  of  drunkenness,  faced 
by  an  orgy  of  cruelty." 

The  younger  but  more  experienced  critic  of  art  turned 
from  canvas  to  canvas.  "  Excuse  me  for  suggesting 
that  you  have  missed  the  lesson  of  the  pictures,"  he  said. 
"  The  one  is  a  protest  against  unbridled  Csesarism,  and 
the  other  a  protest  against  unbridled  democracy.  I  pre- 
sume that  they  were  placed  ojDposite  each  other  by  de- 
sign. It  is  as  much  as  to  say,  '  That  leads  to  this,  and 
this  leads  to  that.'  " 

The  General  seemed  much  struck  by  the  commen- 
tary ;  he  stared  backward  and  forward  with  great  inter- 
est. "  I  think  you  are  right.  Colonel,"  he  conceded  at 
last.  *'  There  is  a  moral  there,  and  a  tremendous  one. 
By  Jove  !  it  takes  practice  to  really  see  a  picture,  as 
well  as  to  run  a  plantation,  or  shoot  wild-turkeys." 

The  dialogue  lingered  for  some  minutes  around  the 
subject  of  art.  A  rosy  and  pursy  little  Englishman,  ap- 
parently of  the  London  shopkeeper  breed,  who  had 
heard  the  two  men  call  each  other  General  and  Colonel, 
sidled  somewhat  nearer  to  them  and  listened  with  fur- 
tive respect,  as  if  sure  that  the  opinions  of  persons  of 
such  rank  must  be  well  worth  attention.  His  wife,  a 
lady  of  remarkable  presence  in  the  way  of  breadth,  fol- 
lowed his  movement  with  the  ponderous  deliberation  of 
a  merchantman  drawn  by  a  tug-boat,  and  turned  her 
moist  blue  eyes  with  something  like  awe  upon  the  lofty 
figure  and  haggard  features  of  Hilton.  Three  cherry- 
cheeked  daughters,  obedient  perhaps  to  some  parental 
signal,  took  out  note-books  and  began  writing  or  sketch- 
ing. Presently  the  General  became  awai;e  of  the  prox- 
imity of  this  group,  without  in  the  least  suspecting  its 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  245 

simple  interest  and  reverence.  He  made  a  gesture  of 
apology,  and  drew  Underbill  to  one  side. 

"  We  were  in  the  way  of  those  ladies,"  he  whispered. 
Little  did  he  guess  that  he  had  deprived  those  ladies  of 
an  unusual  treat,  and  that  his  massive  aquiline  profile  al- 
ready adorned  one  of  those  note-books,  labeled  in  fine, 
sharp  letters,  "  TJie  General 

They  had  scarcely  quitted  their  reverent  audience 
when  TJnderhill  made  a  hasty  right-about,  muttering, 

*'  Good  Heavens  !  " 

Hilton  looked  over  the  young  man's  shoulder,  and 
discerned,  amid  the  groups  of  picture-gazers,  Mrs.  Fitz 

James. 

"What!"  he  whispered.  '-'Are  you  dodging  our 
little  friend  ?  I  wonder  which  of  us  she  is  pointing 
for?     She  has  been  very  pleasant  to  me  of  late." 

"  I  suppose  she  is  pleasant  to  everybody,"  said  Un- 
derbill.    "  Is  she  coming  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is  coming.  Colonel  ;  we'll  make  an  excen- 
tric  retreat.  We'll  divide  our  columns  and  skedaddle 
in  different  directions.     One  of  us  will  escape." 

So  far  as  concerned  Hilton,  it  was  easy  enough  to 
put  this  strategic  joke  into  successful  operation.  It 
was  Underbill  whom  Mrs.  Fitz  James  wanted,  and  she 
overtook  him  in  the  most  adroit  manner,  almost  without 
seeming  to  mean  it.  It  will  be  understood,  of  course, 
that  he  conducted  his  flight  without  much  skill  or 
vigor.  I  suspect  that  all  men  are  ashamed  to  run  away 
from  a  woman,  and  do  it  feebly. 

"  So  glad  to  meet  you  !  "  smiled  Lotharinga,  either 
not  noting  the  attempt  to  escape,  or  choosing  to  ignore 
it.  "  How  lucky  !  Did  you  know  that  I  was  coming 
here  ?    Po  say  so.     I'll  try  to  believe  it.     Won't  you 


246  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

join  us?  My  escort  is  a  nonentity — just  an  Italian 
count  whom  I  sometimes  walk  with,  when  I  have  no- 
body better." 

She  turned  toward  her  cavalier,  and  gave  him  a 
fluttering  smile  and  sparkling  of  the  eyes,  as  though 
he  were  the  dearest  object  in  life  to  her.  He  was 
the  usual  Italian,  somewhat  low  in  stature,  with  a 
pallid,  olive  complexion  and  dreamy  black  eyes.  He 
had  halted  discreetly  some  ten  steps  away,  and  it 
might  be  guessed  that  he  had  been  instructed  so 
to  do. 

"  I  should  be  most  happy,"  said  Underbill.  "  But 
your  escort  has  his  claims.  He  looks  very  love-lorn,  and 
he  will  think  me  an  intruder." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  urged  Lotharinga.  "  He  isn't  a  bit 
love-lorn.  Besides,  Count  Minuzio  is  a  perfectly  broken 
cavaliere  servente,  as  all  Italians  are.  Do  let  me  intro- 
duce him.     He  speaks  French  perfectly." 

"  But  I  don't,"  returned  the  Colonel,  glad  of  it  for 
once.  "  I  shall  simply  be  a  nuisance  to  him  and  a  load 
to  you.     Let  me  make  a  call,  instead." 

"  But  you  don't  call ;  you  never  call — not  even  when 
you  promise.  You  are  the  most  unsocial  man — a  per- 
fect hermit  and  anchorite." 

"  I'll  change — I'll  take  to  society  again." 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  come,  you  must  go,"  fretted  the 
lady.  "I  almost  hate  you  for  it.  No,  I  don't,"  she 
smiled.     "  Do  call  oftener." 

Underbill  slipped  away  from  a  woman  who  wanted 
to  see  him,  only  to  stumble  upon  one  who  would  have 
been  most  happy  to  avoid  him.  He  had  scarcely  taken 
five  steps  among  the  knots  of  picture-gazers,  and  he  was 
still  within  range  of  Lotharinga's  bright  and  eager  eyes, 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  247 

when  he  came  face  to  face  with  Norah  Macmorran.  It 
is  almost  needless  to  state  that  both  of  them  looked  as 
if  they  would  like  to  run  away.  The  gentleman  was 
the  first  to  recover  himself  ;  he  bowed  with  a  respect 
which  was  very  near  to  humility. 

"  Miss  Macmorran,  excuse  me,"  he  murmured.  "  I 
had  no  intention  of  seeking  an  interview.  But,  now 
that  we  have  met,  may  I  have  one  w^ord  ?  " 

ISTorah  stood,  pale  and  still,  like  a  marble  statue  of  a 
saint,  her  hands  folded  across  each  other,  her  head  in- 
clined slightly,  and  her  eyes  upon  the  floor.  "If  you 
wish  it,  sir,"  was  her  only  response,  uttered  in  a  voice 
which  was  little  more  than  a  whisper. 

"  I  want  a  favor  of  you,"  he  begged,  remembering 
the  proximity  of  Mrs.  Fitz  James.  "  Will  you  do  me 
the  kindness  not  to  utter  or  reveal  my  name  ?  " 

"I  should  not  have  spoken  it,  sir,"  gasped  Norah. 
*'  General  Hilton  told  me  what  you  wished." 

He  might  have  gone  now  ;  he  might  have  felt  sure 
of  her  fidelity  ;  but  he  was  still  a  little  anxious.  Strange 
to  say,  yet  naturally  enough,  he  was  anxious  not  only 
for  her  secrecy,  but  also  for  her  esteem. 

"You  don't  condemn  me  for  using  a  disguise,  I 
hope,"  he  continued.     "  You  know  the  whole  unhappy 

story,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  Mrs.  Dumont  told  me  about  the  old  bad 
feeling.     General  Hilton  told  me  the  rest." 

"And  that  I  want  to  wan  my  wife?     Did  he  tell 

you  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  whispered  Norah.  "  I  was  so  glad  to 
hear  of  it  !  "  she  added,  with  an  heroic  effort.  "  I  have 
prayed  for  your  success,  sir." 

Underbill  had  the  air  of  being  completely  humili- 


218  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

ated.  "  You  noble  young  lady  !  "  he  murmured.  "  I 
wish  I  could  fall  down  and  worship  you." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir  !  "  softly  protested  Norah. 

There  were  tears  in  the  young  man's  eyes  at  this 
moment.  Neither  of  them  could  look  the  other  in  the 
face. 

*'  Well,  I  thank  you  profoundly  ! "  he  said  at  last. 
"Is  there  nothing  that  I  can  do  for  you?  Can  I  do 
anything  f  " 

"  No,  sir,"  returned  Norah.  "  I  am  supported  here 
by  St.  Patrick's  Church,"  she  added,  as  if  to  make  sure 
he  should  understand  that  she  needed  no  money.  "I 
want  nothing." 

Of  course,  he  did  not  tell  her  that  it  was  he  who  had 
furnished  the  funds  for  her  education.  He  was  ponder- 
ing how  he  could  render  her  some  present  service  or 
courtesy. 

"You  have  not  lost  your  way?"  he  asked.  "You 
don't  need  a  guide?" 

"  No,  sir,"  she  replied,  with  a  faint  smile  of  thanks. 
"A  gentleman  is  with  me,"  she  immediately  explained, 
coloring  slightly.  "  It  is  Mr.  De  Bethune,  my  instruc- 
tor in  music.  He  just  went  for  a  catalogue.  I  am  so 
curious  about  the  pictures  !  " 

"  Oh  !"  responded  Underbill,  apparently  well  pleased, 
and  glancing  at  her  with  a  slight  air  of  investigation. 
"  I  am  glad  you  have  such  good  company." 

"  He  is  very  good,  I  think,"  murmured  Norah,  now 
blushing  noticeably.     "  And  very  kind  to  me." 

At  this  moment.  Underbill  discovered  the  Professor 
approaching  from  the  other  end  of  the  saloon.  He 
made  him  an  amicable  gesture,  bowed  respectfully  to 
Norah,  and  turned  away. 


THE  BL  0  OD  Y  CHASM.  249 

During  the  latter  part  of  this  dialogue,  he  had  not 
thought  of  Mrs.  Fitz  James.  But  that  eager-minded 
little  lady  had  not  forgotten  him,  nor  failed  to  follow 
him  with  furtive  and  watchful  eyes.  She  now  left  the 
tranquil  Count  Minuzio  once  more,  and  slid  across  the 
hall  to  Norah  and  De  Bethune. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  opened  the  interview  with  a  genial 
twitter  of  "  How  do.  Miss  Macmorran  ?  So  glad  to  meet 
you  here  ! "  Then,  turning  gayly  to  De  Bethune,  "  JBon 
jour,  7non  cher  seigneur.  You  know  Count  Minuzio, 
don't  you  ?  Do  run  over  and  entertain  him  a  minute. 
I  find  him  an  awful  load,  and  I  want  to  talk  to  Miss 
Macmorran." 

De  Bethune  bowed  in  his  urbane  fashion,  and  went 
to  hold  discourse  with  the  urbane  Italian. 

"  Really,  Miss  Macmorran,  you  are  much  to  be  en- 
vied," continued  Mrs.  Fitz  in  a  tone  of  banter  which 
was  meant  to  be  insinuating,  but  which  revealed  a  spice 
of  petulance.  "  You  have  the  most  elegant  men  about 
you — Mr.  De  Bethune  for  an  escort  to  the  galleries,  and 
Colonel  Peyton  catching  the  first  opportunity." 

Xorah  looked  a  good  deal  confused,  and  no  wonder. 
She  knew  the  Baltimore  lady  but  slightly,  and  was  as- 
tonished at  being  addressed  by  her.  Moreover,  Mrs. 
Fitz  James's  manner,  which  was  that  of  a  superior  to  an 
inferior,  or  a  grown  person  to  a  child,  tended  to  abash 
her.  Finally,  it  was  embarrassing,  or  rather  it  was  ex- 
tremely painful,  to  be  spoken  to  of  Underbill. 


250  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Oh,  you  quite  mistake,"  she  stammered.  "  I  met 
Mr. —  I  met  the  other  gentleman  by  accident." 

"  What  did  you  say  ? "  asked  Lotharinga,  quickly. 
"I  didn't  quite  understand." 

*'  I  said  that  I  met  Colonel  Peyton  by  accident,"  re- 
turned the  girl,  speaking  more  firmly,  but  regarding  the 
floor. 

"  I  thought  you  began  to  say  something  else,"  per- 
sisted Lotharinga,  watching  her  sharply.  The  hoyden- 
ish,  audacious  coquette  was  evidently  puzzled  by  those 
downcast  eyes  and  that  meek  face.  It  is  likely  enough 
that  she  understood  them  as  signs  of  a  guilty  conscience. 

*'  I  am  so  glad  you  know  Colonel  Peyton,"  she  re- 
sumed, after  a  little  pondering.  "  He  is  perfectly  charm- 
ing.    Isn't  he  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  is  good  and  noble-hearted,"  answered 
Norah,  looking  up  with  a  serious  countenance.  It  was 
clear  enough  from  her  manner  that  that  was  what  she 
indeed  thought  of  the  man. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  laughed  Mrs.  Fitz.  "  How  we  women 
do  know  all  about  the  men's  heai'ts  ! " 

The  clever  comment  and  the  keen  gaze  which  ac- 
companied it  forced  a  slight  blush  into  Norah's  pale 
cheek.  "  I  have  heard,"  she  stammered,  "  that  he  gives 
a  great  deal  to  the  poor." 

She  had  heard  it,  no  doubt ;  but,  nevertheless,  the 
speech  was  an  evasion,  and  she  looked  uncomfortably 
conscious. 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  noted  the  expression,  and  was  not 
deceived  by  the  explanation.  "I  didn't  suspect  that 
you  knew  him,"  she  continued.  "  I  see  the  Colonel  fre- 
quently, and  he  has  never  mentioned  you.  Let  me  tell 
you — of  course  you  know  it  as  well  as  I  do — that  you 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  251 

are  fortunate  in  the  acquaintance.  lie  is  perfectly  de- 
lightful.    Do  you  see  him  often  here  ?  " 

"  Here  !  "  repeated  the  questioned  girl,  coloring  pro- 
fusely. It  was  a  charge,  as  she  comprehended  it,  that 
she  made  appointments  to  meet  Underhill  at  the  Lux- 
embourg. "  I  never  met  him  before  in  Paris,"  she  an- 
swered energetically  and  incautiously. 

"  Oh  !  then  you  knew  him  in  America,"  inferred 
Lotharinga,  with  the  alert  air  of  a  coquette  who  scents 
a  love-affair.  *'  In  Richmond,  I  suppose,"  she  went  on, 
too  eager  to  wait  for  replies.  "  So  you  knew  him  in 
Richmond  ?     He  is  very  fond  of  music,  isn't  he  ?  " 

She  paused  upon  this  last  question,  and  surveyed 
Norah  with  a  significant  smile. 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  said  I^^orah,  and  then  added  quick- 
ly, "  I  know  he  is." 

"  Yes,  and  your  voice  and  execution  must  be  such  a 
treat  to  him  !  "  insinuated  Mrs.  Fitz,  beginning  to  show 
in  her  face  more  of  the  serpent  than  of  the  dove.  "  I 
really  envy  you.  Of  course,  you  couldn't  refuse  to  sing 
for  such  an  attractive  gentleman  as  Colonel  Peyton." 

"  I  never  sang  for  him  in  particular,"  was  the  stam- 
mering but  honest  response.  "  He  never  heard  me  but 
in  the  church  and  at  concerts." 

Mrs.  Fitz  James  was  not  to  be  beaten  by  any  such 
trickery  as  the  simple  truth.  '^I  think  it  is  dreadful," 
she  giggled.  "  You  are  just  like  all  these  artists.  I  do 
think  it  is  dreadful  behavior.  How  in  the  world,  when 
such  a  charming  man  calls  on  you,  can  you  refuse  to 
sing  for  him  ?  " 

"  He  never  did  call  on  me,  Mrs.  Fitz  James."  Norah 
said  this  with  just  a  little  touch  of  pugnacity  in  her 
tone  ;   it  was  worrying  to  be  so  cross-questioned,  and 


252  TEE  BLOODY   CHASM. 

irritating  to  be  an  object  of  suspicion.  Then,  all  of  a 
sudden,  she  recollected  the  duty  of  meekness,  and  her 
eyes  dropped  floorward.  There  was  an  expression  in  her 
face  as  of  beseeching  pardon,  and  possibly  she  was  pray- 
ing for  a  higher  forgiveness  than  that  of  Mrs.  Fitz  James. 

Lotharinga  fell  back  a  little,  like  a  serpent  which 
has  struck  its  blow,  and  struck  in  vain.  She  studied 
the  chastened  countenance  and  gently  bowed  figure  of 
the  pure-minded  child  of  poverty  with  an  almost  comi- 
cal air  of  frustration  and  annoyance.  She  clearly  did 
not  know  whether  to  regard  her  as  a  stupid  thing,  or  as 
an  artful  baggage. 

"  You  astonish  me,"  she  said  at  lasf,  with  a  little  tit- 
ter of  perplexity.  "  Why,  there  is  some  mystery  about 
it ;  it  is  perfectly  romantic  and  delightful,"  she  added, 
falling  into  the  commonplaces  of  banter.  Then,  turn- 
ing serious  and  inquisitive  again,  "  Why  shouldn't  he 
call,  and  why  shouldn't  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  very  rich  gentleman,  and  I  am  a  poor  girl," 
returned  Norah,  simply  and  gravely.  "  It  is  not  proper 
to  have  such  calls." 

For  a  moment,  at  least,  Mrs.  Fitz  James  believed  in 
the  girl's  sincerity.  But  she  was  not  touched — as  even 
some  very  coarse  kinds  of  manhood  might  have  been — 
by  a  revelation  of  lowly-born  humility  and  maidenly 
timidity.  She  merely  stared  at  it,  as  though  she  had 
never  inspected  nor  divined  the  like  before,  and  found 
it  a  very  amazing  and  irrational  spectacle.  On  second 
thoughts,  too,  she  burst  out  laughing  at  it. 

"  What  ideas  for  Paris  !  "  she  giggled.  "  Don't  let 
people  hear  you.     They'll  think  you  are  silly." 

"If  any  people  think  so  for  that  reason,  their 
thoughts  are  of  no  value  to  me,"  replied  Norah. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  253 

Mrs.  Fitz  had  a  look  of  querying,  "  I  wonder  if  she 
is  good  ?  "  Then  came  another  expression  which  signi- 
fied, "  What  nonsense  !  "  .  .  .  "  But  you  know  Colonel 
Peyton,"  she  said  aloud,  resuming  her  catechism.  "  You 
must  have  met  him  somewhere  to  speak  with  him.  Oh, 
I  can  guess  ;  he  waited  on  you  to  the  concerts,  or  home 
from  church  ?  " 

She  tried  to  win  a  confession  by  a  genial  smile  ;  but, 
of  course,  there  was  no  confession  to  be  made.  Norah 
simply  shook  her  head,  and  responded,  "No,  Mrs.  Fitz 
James,  he  never  did." 

"  Then  how  could  you  get  acquainted  with  him  ?  " 
Lotharinga  exclaimed.     "  Were  you  born  acquainted  ?  " 

The  joke  threw  the  Irish  girl  off  her  guard  ;  she 
smiled  and  replied,  "  The  chorister  introduced  us." 

"  Oh,  the  chorister  !  Then  he  used  to  come  into  the 
choir  to  hear  you  practice  ?  Dear  me,  how  enchanted 
he  must  have  been  !  No  wonder.  Your  singing  is 
perfectly  ravishing  ;  it's  enough  to  turn  any  man's 
head." 

Norah's  face  became  grave  again.  She  was  obvi- 
ously very  anxious  to  escape  from  her  worrying  and 
little  less  than  defamatory  inquisitor.  She  glanced 
across  the  hall  at  De  Bethune,  as  if  with  the  purpose  of 
summoning  him  ;  but  the  Professor  was  talking  ear- 
nestly with  the  Count,  apparently  about  Couture's  one 
masterpiece,  and  did  not  happen  to  look  her  way. 

"  Oh,  leave  them  alone — they  are  contented  enough," 
said  Mrs.  Fitz,  who  had  noted  the  glance.  "And  so 
it  was  the  chorister  who  introduced  you  ?  I  suppose 
the  Colonel  asked  for  the  favor.     Didn't  he  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — I  suppose  so,"  stammered  Norah. 

"  O    Miss  Macmorran  ! — O  Miss  Macmorran  !    vou 


254  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

know  it  perfectly,"  giggled  Lotharinga.     "  I  can  see  it 
in  your  face.     You  blush  killingly." 

At  last  tlie  Celtic  blood  of  the  pestered  girl  rose  in 
revolt  and  resistance.  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  I  do7i't  know- 
it,"  she  said,  firmly.  "  I  would  have  been  ashamed  to 
ask.  And  I  don't  think  you  have  a  right  to  question 
me  so  much." 

Lotharinga  looked  dismayed,  and  then  resentful. 
"  Oh,  well — if  it  is  a  matter  of  feeling  to  you — as  I  sup- 
pose it  is,"  she  sneered.  "  Of  course,  I  shall  be  silent  on 
the  subject,  if  you  prefer  it."  After  hesitating  a  mo- 
ment, she  added  with  increased  sharpness  :  "But  I  can 
do  you  a  favor.  Miss  Macmorran.  I  can  give  you  some 
information — very  important  information,  perhaps — that 
is,  to  you.     There  is  an  affair  with  another  lady." 

"  Another  lady  ! "  replied  Norah,  still  on  the  de- 
fensive, and  indignant  thereat.  "  How,  then,  can  it  con- 
cern me  ?  " 

Lotharinga  should  have  seen  that  her  thrust  had  not 
taken  effect ;  but  she  pushed  on  headlong,  like  a  fencer 
who  has  lost  his  balance.  "He  is  devoted  to  Miss 
Beaufort,"  she  whispered,  her  lips  quivering  with  no 
enviable  emotion.  "  He  is  bewitched  with  Miss  Beau- 
fort." 

Norah  was  at  that  moment  nodding  to  De  Bethune 
by  way  of  recalling  him  to  her.  Next  she  astonished 
and  routed  Mrs.  Fitz  James  by  facing  her  with  a  smile 
and  saying  placidly — "  I  don't  wonder.  Miss  Beaufort 
is  very  lovely." 

"Good-morning,  Miss  Macmorran,"  snapped  the 
widow,  turning  her  back  rudely. — "  Oh,  you've  got  tired 
of  the  Count,"  she  added,  addressing  the  Professor. 
"  So  have  L     I'm  tired  of  everything.     Good-by." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  255 

Before  she  had  taken  three  steps,  however,  she 
looked  around  with  a  coaxing  smile — as  if  suddenly  re- 
membering to  flirt,  even  in  her  bitterness — and  called  to 
him  :  "  Come  and  see  me,  7no7i  tres  cher  seigneur.  Au 
revoir.'^'' 

De  Bethune  acknowledged  the  invitation  by  a  gest- 
ure of  thanks.  But  in  the  next  instant  he  turned  to 
his  companion  and  said  in  his  sweetest  tone,  "  We  have 
lost  a  great  deal  of  time.  Miss  Macmorran." 

It  was  evident  that  she  understood  a  compliment, 
for  she  gave  him  a  shy  glance  of  comprehension  and 
gratitude.  Then  taking  the  catalogue,  and  quickly 
averting  her  face  from  the  nudities  of  Couture,  she 
began  to  study  with  awe-struck  eyes  "  The  Calling  of 
the  Condemned,"  while  De  Bethune  poured  into  her 
ear  a  murmurous  commentary,  the  very  tone  of  which 
— no  matter  what  the  words  were — showed  respect  and 
liking. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

From  the  Luxembourg  Underbill  and  Hilton  went 
to  see  the  tomb  of  Napoleon,  where  they  had  much  in- 
teresting conversation  with  the  wizened  veteran  of  Wa- 
terloo who  served  as  their  guide,  and  were  treated  by 
him  wdth   immense   respect  in  consideration   of   their 

titles. 

About  five  they  dined  at  the  General's  favorite  fifty- 
cent  restaurant  in  the  Palais  Rftyal,  while  a  military 
band  poured  forth  alternate  marches  and  waltzes  in  the 
square  below  their  window,  and  a  hundred  or  two  of 


256  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

cheerful  convives  rattled  knives  and  forks  in  unison. 
Next  came  an  hour  over  a  cup  of  black  coffee  in  the 
Cafe  du  Pavilion,  meantime  studying  the  never-ceasing 
flow  of  promenaders,  and  interchanging  the  usual  com- 
ments of  the  tourist.  The  General  still  retained  the 
naivete  of  the  citizen  of  a  small  place  who  visits  a  large 
one.  He  was  amazed  at  the  metropolitan  abundance  of 
humanity,  and  seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  portent  of  com- 
ing desolation.  He  surveyed  with  horror  a  blonde  ad- 
venturess who  had  arrived  from  Russia  to  barter  her 
charms  in  Paris  for  English  gold,  and  remarked  sol- 
emnly, *'  This  is  a  wicked  city."  When  Underhill  asked 
him  if  he  would  have  cognac  in  his  cafe  noir,  he  replied 
firmly  :  "  ISTo.  It  improves  it.  It  makes  it  taste  more 
like  coffee.  But  I  won't  have  it.  This  people  needs  an 
example  of  self-restraint."  A  little  later,  glancing  at  an 
American  who  was  mixing  Sauterne  and  seltzer-water, 
he  exclaimed,  "  Good  heavens,  how  the  French  are 
given  over  to  luxury  !  "  Two  young  Wallachians,  who 
were  somewhat  flown  with  wine,  impressed  him  with  a 
belief  that  Parisians  drank  too  hard.  In  short,  the 
General  saw  that  France  was  corrupt,  and  sorrowfully 
predicted  the  fall  of  the  empire. 

At  last  Underhill  rose  and  said  with  a  cheerful 
smile,  "  I  must  go  and  dress  to  call  on  my  wife." 

"Ah  ! "  laughed  Hilton.  "Put  on  your  very  pretti- 
est. By-the-way,  I  am  to  be  there  this  evening  ;  there 
is  some  treat  for  me,  I  understand.  But  I'll  drop  in  a 
little  late  ;  I'll  leave  you  the  field  for  a  time.  Be  care- 
ful about  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  and  don't  bring  her  along  if 
you  can  help  it."  • 

An  hour  later  Underhill  was  in  his  wife's  parlor. 
He  found  her  radiant  with  beauty  and  content,  and 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  257 

ventured  to  allude  to  the  fact  in  a  complimentary 
way. 

"Yes,  Virginia  seems  very  happy  to-night,"  said 
Mrs.  Dumont,  glancing  at  her  niece  with  pride. 

"So  I  am,"  returned  the  young  lady.  *^  Colonel 
Peyton,  my  music-teacher  has  just  suited  me  with  an 
air  for  your  poem.  I  am  going  to  sing  it  to  you  this 
evening.  Oh  !  he  has  just  suited  me,"  she  repeated,  joy- 
ously. "  It  is  very  simple — no  warbling  and  ornament 
— a  few  notes  like  a  trumpet — just  what  I  wanted.  I 
told  him  it  must  be  simple,  and  he  has  made  it  so.  It 
is  hardly  more  than  passionate  declamation.  But  it  be- 
longs to  the  words.     I  know  you  will  like  it." 

"  Of  course,  I  shall  like  my  own  verses,  sung  by 
you,"  he  replied. 

Mrs.  Dumont  gave  him  a  glance  of  investigation,  as 
if  she  thought  his  tone  or  manner  a  trifle  too  enthusi- 
astic, considering  that  her  niece  was  a  married  woman 
in  disguise. 

"  Anybody  would  like  them,  whether  sung  or  said," 
declared  Virginia,  whereupon  the  gaze  of  the  elder  lady 
was  turned  upon  her  with  even  more  anxious  inspec- 
tion. 

Presently  Underbill  inquired  with  natural  impa- 
tience why  he  was  kept  waiting  for  the  song. 

"  I  want  General  Hilton,"  explained  Virginia.  "  I 
sent  him  a  note  telling  him  that  I  had  a  treat  for  him 
this  evening.  I  want  to  surprise  him.  He  doesn't 
know  what  it  is.  He  will  be  delighted.  I  think  I  shall 
make  him  cry — that  is,  you  and  I  will." 

"  Virginia,  how  you  prattle  !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Dumont. 

"  I  am  out  of  my  head  with  my  song,"  the  girl  rat- 
tled on.     "  I  am  as  happy  as  a  child  over  it.    Music  and 


258  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

poetry  have  that  effect  on  me.  I  forget  everything  else. 
Oh,  it  is  a  lovely  song,  Colonel  Peyton,  though  I  say  it. 
I  think  you  will  be  proud  of  your  verses  when  you  hear 
them  to  this  air." 

"  I  am  proud  and  gratified  already,"  said  Underhill, 
his  face  flushed  with  gladness  and  his  eyes  bright  with 
adoration. 

After  a  time  the  deliberate  tramp  of  the  General's 
ligneous  march  was  heard  in  the  hall.  "  There  is  my 
old  hero,"  exclaimed  Virginia,  springing  to  open  the 
door  for  him. — "Come  in,  bravest  of  the  brave." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  laughed  Hilton,  shaking  hands  all 
round,  as  his  custom  was.  "Well,  here  we  are,"  he 
added,  dropping  into  a  seat.     "  Now,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  General,  it  is  a  song,"  smiled  the  elated  cantatrice, 
who  was  already  at  her  piano.  "  It  is '  Pickett's  Charge,' 
written  by  Colonel  Peyton.  I  want  you  to  hear  every 
word.     Don't  mind  the  music.     Listen  to  the  words." 

"  Ah  !  one  of  yours,  Colonel  ?  "  bowed  Hilton.  "  I 
shall  stand  at  attention." 

Then  Virginia  struck  the  first  notes  of  a  simple,  mas- 
culine, clarion-like  air,  and  threw  the  whole  fervor  of 
her  powerful  soprano  into — 

"  The  war  had  robbed  the  cradle, 

The  war  had  robbed  the  grave,"  etc. 

When  she  ended,  the  tears  were  in  her  eyes  and 
Mrs.  Dumont  was  sobbing  like  a  child,  while  the  wood- 
en-legged Confederate  General  and  the  Yankee  Colonel 
in  his  disguise  of  gray  were  hiding  their  faces.  It  was 
half  a  minute — it  seemed  to  be  several  minutes — before 
any  one  spoke.     Then  Underhill  murmured,  "  I  am  cry- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  259 

ing  over  my  own  verses — well,  they  are  poor  enough 
for  it." 

The  General  turned  his  moist  eyes  upon  him,  and 
took  him  gravely  by  the  hand.  "  Poor ! "  he  said. 
"  Colonel,  I  don't  know  whether  you  are  a  poet  or  not  ; 
but  what  you  write  breaks  my  heart.  Ah,  those  sub- 
lime regiments  !  How  grandly  they  went  to  destruc- 
tion !  " 

"  Yes,  grandly  !  sublimely  ! "  echoed  Virginia,  and 
then  impetuously  declaimed  the  lines  : 

"They  marched  without  a  shiver 
To  join  the  knightly  dead; 
They  crossed  the  ghostly  river 
With  swift  and  steady  tread ; 
And  fame  shall  shine  for  ever 
Around  that  column's  head." 

"  Yes,  for  ever  !  "  said  the  General,  solemnly.  "  It 
will  never  be  forgotten — that  column." 

"  To  join  the  knightly  dead,"  repeated  Virginia. 
"  Oh,  how  could  you  find  those  words,  Mr.  Peyton  ?  " 

"  What  other  words  could  he  find  ?  "  demanded  the 
General.  "  They  are  just  the  words.  Knightly  men, 
every  one  of  them — and  they  joined  the  knightly  souls 
of  old — all  the  brave  who  have  died  gloriously.  Colo- 
nel, I  sometimes  wish  I  had  fallen  on  that  battle-field. 
It  would  have  been  a  great  honor." 

"  Ah  !  there  were  enough  without  you,"  sighed  Vir- 
ginia. ^'I  can't  spare  another  friend,  not  even  in 
thought." 

So  the  impassioned  Southern  talk  went  on  for  many 
minutes.  Underbill  found  it  difficult  to  bear  any  part 
in  it,  and  naturally  said  little.     But  he  was  obviously 


260  TEE  BLOODY  CEASM, 

not  embarrassed,  and  far  indeed  from  unhappy.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  nearly  all  the  time  on  Virginia  with  an 
expression  of  fervent  admiration,  mingled  with  pensive 
study.  If  she  looked  at  him,  he  smiled  gently  and 
dropped  his  gaze,  but  soon  raised  it  again  to  her  face. 
He  was  not  only  fascinated  by  his  wife  ;  he  was  desper- 
ately in  love  with  her. 

"  Well,  that  will  do  for  a  Confederate  palaver,"  said 
the  General  at  last,  glancing  at  Underhill  as  if  he  re- 
membered all  of  a  sudden  his  Yankeehood.  "  I  don't 
want  to  spend  an  entire  evening  in  lamenting  the  lost 
cause." 

"  We  shall  have  to  stop  it  soon,  anyway,"  answered 
Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James  is  coming  at  nine ; 
and  she  is  so  light-headed  !  One  doesn't  like  to  speak 
with  her  on  a  really  great  subject." 

"  Little  Mrs.  Fitz  James  coming  ?  "  asked  Hilton  in 
mild  dismay. 

"  So  she  wrote  me  this  morning,"  stated  Virginia. 
"  She  made  the  appointment.     I  couldn't  help  it." 

"  Colonel,  we  must  skedaddle  again,"  said  the  elder 
gentleman.  "  Suppose  we  jumjD  out  of  the  win- 
dow ?  " 

"  What,  and  leave  us  !  "  protested  Virginia,  looking 
imploringly  at  her  poet.  "Don't  run  away  from  my 
poor  little  friend.  What  if  she  does  rattle  ?  You  can 
take  turns  in  listening  to  her.  The  disengaged  one  can 
talk  to  me." 

Underhill  obviously  longed  to  remain  ;  he  was  gaz- 
ing raptly  at  his  lovely  wife.  ]Mrs.  Dumont  glanced  at 
him,  glanced  at  the  eager  face  of  her  niece,  and  became 
very  grave. 

"  If  the  gentlemen  don't  like  Mrs.  Fitz  James,"  she 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  2G1 

said — "  and  I  really  can't  wonder  they  don't — I  am  sure 
they  have  the  right  to  avoid  her." 

Thereupon  the  General  told  the  tale  of  the  attempted 
flight  in  the  Luxembourg.  "  We  made  an  excentric  re- 
treat," he  said  ;  "  we  broke  for  the  rear  in  twenty  di- 
rections. I  thought  she  was  after  me.  But  it  turned 
out  that  the  Colonel  was  her  objective  point." 

Virginia  uttered  a  little  forced  laugh,  and  glanced 
uneasily  at  Underhill.  "And  you,  Mr.  Peyton,"  she 
asked — "  you  surrendered,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.  "  But  I  broke  my  parole,  and 
here  I  am,  instead  of  there." 

The  young  lady  could  not  help  looking  a  trifle 
elated  by  this  triumph  over  a  rival  who  was  at  least 
pretty  and  lively,  and  whom  she  in  her  inexperience 
regarded  as  a  woman  of  the  world  and  a  leader  in  so- 
ciety. Her  laughter  burst  out  again,  this  time  in  a 
perfectly  natural  argentine  tinkle,  significant  of  pure 
satisfaction. 

Mrs.  Dumont's  countenance  became  more  and  more 
solemn.  As  we  have  heretofore  been  forced  to  ac- 
knowledge, she  was  a  woman  of  but  moderate  intellect- 
ual parts,  capable  of  occasionally  acting  with  unwis- 
dom, and  liable  to  talk  flat  nonsense  ;  but  the  grave 
and  prim  manner  in  which  she  had  been  reared,  and 
her  high  ideas  as  to  what  was  becoming  in  a  lady  of 
the  Beaufort  blood,  put  her  on  the  plane  of  a  judgmati- 
cal person  in  matters  of  decorum.  She  could  see  that 
her  niece  and  this  troubadour  visitor  were  getting  in- 
terested in  each  other,  and  she  knew  that  it  was  not 
best  that  the  feeling  should  be  fostered  by  opportunity. 
Her  conclusion  was  that,  under  the  circumstances,  he 
had  staid  long  enough. 


262  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  Ought  you  not  to  consider  Mrs.  Fitz  James  ?  "  she 
suggested.  "  If  she  expected  you  at  her  rooms,  and 
then  finds  you  here,  she  will  be  hurt." 

The  General,  who  knew  the  wisdom  of  bending 
before  the  senior  womanhood  of  a  household,  rose  at 
once.  "  We  must  bolt,"  he  declared.  "  I  prefer  the 
Funambules  to  Mrs.  Fitz." 

Virginia  made  no  further  objection  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, she  laughed  assent.  "  Here  is  the  window,"  she 
giggled.  "  Wouldn't  Lotharinga  be  furious  to  see  you 
jumping  out  of  it,  and  running  for  an  omnibus  ?  I 
shaVt  tell  her  that  you  have  been  here." 

"  Farewell !  "  said  the  General  in  a  melodramatic 
voice,  striding  to  the  door  with  an  imitation  of  the  gait 
of  a  stage  conspirator.  Underbill  nodded  gayly  to  the 
ladies,  and  followed  in  the  same  manner.  The  last 
sound  he  heard  was  the  merry  laughter  of  his  wife,  ap- 
parently well  contented  with  his  flight  from  the  coquet- 
tish widow. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Mrs.  Dumont  could  not  help  laughing  over  the 
mock-tragedy  exit  of  the  two  gentlemen  ;  but,  the  mo- 
ment they  were  gone,  she  became  serious  again,  and 
recommenced  to  study  her  niece. 

"  What  fun  !  Poor  Mrs.  Fitz  James  ! "  the  girl 
was  saying.  Then,  suddenly  checking  her  laughter, 
she  sighed,  "  Oh,  dear  !  I  was  crying  a  minute  ago." 

"  You  laugh  or  cry  just  as  Colonel  Peyton  chooses," 
returned  Mrs.  Dumont,  with  severity  if  not  with  injus- 
tice. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  263 

"  I  don't  !  "  asseverated  Virginia,  coloring.  "  It 
was  General  Hilton  who  made  me  laugh.  The  idea  of 
an  honorable,  simple  South  Carolina  gentleman,  who 
never  did  an  underhanded  thing  in  his  whole  life, 
putting  on  the  airs  of  an  opera  brigand  !  It's  enough 
to  upset  any  one's  gravity." 

Mrs.  Dumont  laid  a  hand  on  her  breast,  rolled  her 
eyes  upward,  pursed  her  lips,  and,  in  short,  prepared  for 
a  struggle. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  was  all  ?  "  she  said.  "  If  the  Gen- 
eral had  gone  alone,  and  Colonel  Peyton  had  staid  to 
see  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  I  wonder  if  you  would  have 
laughed  so  heartily  ?  " 

Virginia's  sensitive  pride  enabled  her  to  see  the 
whole  force  of  this  accusation.  "Aunt,  what  do  you 
mean  ?  "  she  demanded,  indignantly.  "  Do  you  think  I 
would  allow  myself  to  fall  in  love  with  this  man,  or  any 
man  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  you  put  things  so  violently  !  I  wish  I 
could  ever  speak  to  you  for  your  own  good  without 
being  answered  so  passionately." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then  came  a 
subdued  reply.  "  Excuse  me,  my  dear  aunt.  But  the 
mere  suggestion  of  such  an  idea  is  very  fretting.  It 
seems  to  throw  a  stigma  on  me.  You  couldn't  expect 
a  Beaufort  to  bear  it  patiently." 

"  I  know  you  will  always  remember  who  you  are," 
said  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  But  you  are  in  a  very  difficult 
situation.  Oh,  it  is  a  dreadful  situation  !  "  she  groaned. 
"  I  think  of  it  sometimes,  and  of  the  possibility  of  gos- 
sip about  you,  till  it  seems  as  if  I  should  go  wild.  It  is 
such  a  strange  situation — so  completely  unprecedented. 
No   other  Beaufort  was  ever   in    such  circumstances. 


264  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 


There  is  nothing  in  our  noble  family  history  to  guide 
you." 

"  I  believe  I  always  remember  that  I  am  a  married 
woman,"  murmured  Vii'ginia.  "I  know  that  I  do. 
How  can  I  ever  forget  the  horrid  fact  ?  " 

"  But  here  you  are  making  a  demigod  of  this  man, 
and  he  makes  a  perfect  goddess  of  you." 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  blushing  violently. 
*'  Don't  say  that,  aunt.     He  doesn't." 

"  I  think  he  does.  I  am  an  old  woman,  my  dear — 
at  least,  I  am  a  great  deal  older  than  you.  I  know  men 
better.  Never  mind  about  your  being  clever.  You 
may  be  cleverer  in  some  things  than  any  other  Beau- 
fort that  ever  lived.  But  I  have  been  married.  And  a 
married  woman,  no  matter  if  she  is  a  foolish  old  aunt, 
understands  men  better  than  a  girl." 

"  I  am  married,  too,"  said  Virginia,  bitterly. 

"  What  does  it  amount  to  ?  Well,  it  amounts  to  a 
good  deal.  So  much  the  more  reason  for  being  care- 
ful." 

"  I  have  been  careful." 

"  In  future,  I  mean  ;  on  his  account,"  pleaded  Mrs. 
Dumont,  placatingly. 

Virginia  turned  her  face  away  from  the  light  as  she 
muttered,  "  I  don't  believe  he  cares  for  me." 

"  He  does  !  "  firmly  insisted  the  elder  lady.  "  I  watch 
him  when  you  are  not  looking  at  him." 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't."  This  was  said  in  a  tone  of 
impatient  lassitude,  as  if  the  speaker  found  the  dialogue 
wearisome  and  fretting. 

"  He  never  takes  his  eyes  off  you.  He  follows  you 
about  the  room  with,  oh,  such  a  gaze  !  I  am  perfectly 
sure  that  he  is  dead  in  love  with  you." 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  265 

Virginia  fairly  shrank  under  this  announcement. 
"  O  aunt !  what  did  you  tell  me  that  for  ?  "  she  broke 
out  in  a  sort  of  cry.     "  You  drive  me  distracted  ! " 

"  I  tell  it  to  you  because  you  ought  to  know  it," 
persisted  the  monitress,  with  an  anxious  and  almost 
sorrowful  glance  of  investigation. 

The  girl  remained  silent  for  a  little,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  the  carpet  and  her  hands  clasped  tight.  At  last, 
looking  up  eagerly,  she  demanded  :  "  What  am  I  to 
do  ?  I  don't  want  to  break  with  my  poet — the  only 
poet  I  ever  knew — merely  because  you  suspect  that — 
that  he  cares  for  me.     Oh,  I  wish  I  was  divorced  ! " 

"Divorced!"  screamed  Mrs.  Dumont.  "There 
never  was  a  divorce  in  our  family,  nor  in  South  Caro- 
lina either,  except  among  niggers.  It  is  a  thing  that 
niggers  and  Yankees  do."  Then,  after  a  horrified  stare 
of  inquiry,  she  added,  "  Do  you  mean  divorced  so  that 
you  could  take  hhn  f  " 

"  No  !  "  answered  Virginia,  stamping  her  foot  in  the 
violence  of  her  denial.  "  But  to  be  free — free  from 
scandal.  I  foresee  that  my  life  will  be  one  long  strug- 
gle to  avoid  scandal." 

"  I  am  afraid  so,  my  dear." 

"  I  wish  I  was  as  ugly  as  a  turkey-buzzard,  and  had 
no  more  voice  than  a  screech-owl,"  sobbed  the  girl, 
driven  into  the  grotesque  by  desperation. 

Mrs.  Dumont  clasped  her  troubled  bosom,  lifted  her 
somber  black  eyes,  and  meditated  gloomily.  "  I  some- 
times think,"  she  resumed  in  a  timorous  tone — "  of 
course,  it  is  dreadful  to  come  to  it — but  I  sometimes 
think  it  would  be  best  to — to  write  to  Mr.  Underhill." 

Virginia's  spirit  was  by  this  time  wearied  with  out- 
bursts, and  she  did  not  utter  the  vehement  dissent  which 
12 


2QQ  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

had  been  expected.  Slie  merely  sighed.  "  If  my  hus- 
band were  a  noble  Confederate  soldier,  I  would  crawl 
on  my  knees  to  ask  him  to  live  with  me." 

Mrs.  Dumont  looked  but  half  satisfied  with  this  dec- 
laration. Possibly  it  occurred  to  her  that  the  phrase 
"noble  Confederate  soldier"  might  express  a  kindly 
reminiscence  of  Colonel  Peyton. 

"  Of  course,  you  would,"  she  said.  "  A  lady  should 
do  almost  anything,  rather  than  live  separated.  I  am 
one  of  the  old-fashioned  sort.  I  believe  that  mar- 
riage  should   mean   something.      I   have   always  said 

so." 

The  niece  replied  by  a  vacant  look,  as  though  she 
failed  to  remember  the  remark,  but  felt  that  it  mat- 
tered little.  "Are  you  quite  in  earnest,  aunt?"  she 
presently  asked.  "  Do  you  distinctly  advise  me  to 
write  to  Mr.  Underbill  ?  " 

Mrs.  Dumont's  old  vacillation  as  to  this  thorny  affair 
returned  upon  her,  and  she  evaded  prompt  and  positive 
response  by  having  recourse  to  her  emotions.  "  I  don't 
know,  ^^rginia,"  she  whimpered.  "  I  want  you  to  do 
what  is  best  for  yourself,  and  for  the  good  name  of  the 
family,  whatever  that  may  be." 

"  I  couldn't  love  him — I  couldn't,"  said  the  wife  in 
a  short,  dry  tone,  shaking  her  head  violently  as  if  at  the 
image  of  her  husband.  Presently  her  face  changed 
from  resolution  to  perplexity,  and  she  asked  anxiously, 
"  Must  I  refuse  to  see  Colonel  Peyton  ?  " 

«  Well— no,"  hesitated  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  That  would 
be  rude.  But  do  be  careful.  Don't  let  him  adore  you  ; 
and  don't — " 

"  Don't  adore  him,  I  suppose  you  mean  to  say," 
fretted  Virginia.     "However,  I  will  be   careful.     I'll 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  2G7 

talk  with  him  as  little  as  possible.  I'll  sing  to  him,  and 
make  him  read  me  his  verses." 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  do  you  suppose — "  began  the  elder 
lady  ;  but  just  then  came  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  Mrs. 
Fitz  James  rushed  in. 

"  How  do,  my  dear  ? — How  do,  Mrs.  Dumont  ?  "  she 
laughed,  kissing  to  right  and  left. — "I've  got  such  a 
lovely  air  for  you,  my  dear,"  she  added,  running  to  the 
piano.     "  Let  me  touch  off  the  first  bars  for  you." 

Virginia  hurried  after  her,  exclaiming,  "  It's  all  in 
confusion  ;  let  me  clear  off  those  things." 

But  she  was  too  late.  The  alert  and  inquisitive  lit- 
tle widow  had  already  picked  up  the  sheet  containing 
Underhill's  ballad. 

"  What's  this — a  new  piece  ?  "  she  rattled.  "  *  Pick- 
et's Charge ' — words  by  Colonel  Henry  Peyton — music 
by  L.  De  Bethune."  She  read  this  legend  with  undis- 
guisable  dismay,  and  with  a  really  pitiful  subsidence  or 
collapse  of  utterance.  Then,  turning  suddenly  upon 
Virginia,  but  not  looking  her  in  the  face,  she  asked  : 
"  Have  you  been  singing  it  ?     Has  he  been  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  and  General  Hilton,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

"  And  you  sang  it  to  him  ? "  gasped  Lotharinga. 
"  Oh,  how  charmed  he  must  have  been  !  "  she  added, 
forcing  a  smile.     "  How  sweet  of  you  !     Do  sing  it  to 


me." 


There  was  nothing  better  to  be  done  than  to  sit 
down  and  execute  the  "  Charge "  with  spirit.  Mrs. 
Fitz  James  listened  abstractedly,  obviously  engaged  in 
profound  and  troublous  reflections,  but  murmuring  from 
moment  to  moment  :  "  Oh,  that's  lovely.  IsaH  it  lovely  ! 
Too  sweet  for  anything.  And  he  gave  it  to  you  ? 
What  a  perfectly  irresistible  man  he  is  !  " 


268  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Slie  had  nothing  to  say  of  the  heroic  strife,  nothing 
of  the  *•  knightly  dead,"  nothing  of  the  clarion  music. 
When  the  song  was  ended  she  at  once  began  to  talk  of 
something  else.  Presently  she  got  Virginia  to  essay  her 
own  aria,  a  trivial  bit  of  love-making  nonsense.  But 
all  this  while  it  was  as  clear  as  possible  that  she  was 
meditating  with  her  whole  feather-headed  might.  At 
last  the  attack  came  :  she  recommenced  about  Colo- 
nel Peyton  :  he  was  irresistible — perfectly  irresistible — 
wasn't  he,  my  dear  ? 

Virginia  grew  fretful  under  the  repetition  of  the 
phrase,  and  finally  responded  with  some  asperity,  "  You 
may  find  him  so,  Mrs.  Fitz  James." 

"  So  do  other  women,"  said  Lotharinga,  quickly.  "  I 
came  across  one  of  his  conquests  this  morning.  Such  a 
pretty  girl !  And  such  a  nice  girl  ! — as  I  had  supposed. 
It  is  really  too  bad  to  tell  on  her.  You  must  keep  it  a 
solemn  secret — promise  me  now.  You  wouldn't  think 
it  of  our  demure  little  Irish  thing,  would  you  ?  " 

Virginia  had  not  been  able  to  help  listening,  nor 
could  she  help  turning  hot  and  red  with  anger.  Her 
first  impulse,  no  doubt,  was  to  tell  the  scandal-monger 
that  her  whole  story  was  a  stupid  misunderstanding 
or  a  wicked  fabrication.  But  she  was  self-possessed 
enough,  or,  more  likely,  paralyzed  enough,  to  remain 
speechless.  It  was  the  amazed  Mrs.  Dumont  who  de- 
manded, "  Do  you  mean  Miss  Macmorran  ?  " 

"  Just  Miss  Macmorran,  and  nobody  else,"  afiirmed 
Lotharinga,  bearing  on  to  her  words  significantly.  "  Oh, 
I  don't  know  how  much  it  amounts  to,"  she  added  with 
the  candor  of  a  serpent.  "  I  only  suspect.  But,  my 
dears,  I  suspect — volumes." 

Virginia  still  sat  silent,  a  spot  of  crimson  in  either 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  269 

cheek,  and  her  eyes  settled  sternly  on  the  babbler's 
face.  Lotharinga's  glance  dropped,  and  then  wandered 
away  to  Mrs.  Dumont,  like  a  scared  loon  diving  in  one 
spot  to  come  up  in  another. 

"I  met  them  in  the  Luxembourg,"  she  hurried  on, 
determined  to  finish  her  tale.  "  They  had  a  long  and 
confidential  talk.  Then  Colonel  Peyton  saw  me  and 
stole  away.  I  went  straight  up  to  Miss  Macmorran  and 
pumped  her.  She  is  a  sly  little  piece,  with  her  nunnery 
face  and  downcast  eyes  and  subdued  voice.  Oh,  she 
was  awfully  adroit  ;  she  dodged  and  evaded  in  wonder- 
ful style  ;  she  was  almost  too  much  for  me.  But  I 
learned  something.  I  learned  that  there  had  been  an 
intimacy  in  America." 

At  last  Virginia  spoke.  She  had  looked  once  or 
twice  at  her  aunt  with  an  expression  which  asked,  "  Are 
you  not  going  to  stop  her  ?  "  Now  she  broke  out  ener- 
getically :  "  Why  do  you  go  on  with  this,  Mrs.  Fitz 
James  ?     I  prefer  not  to  hear  any  more  about  it." 

"  Oh,  well^if  it  annoys  you — certainly,"  returned 
Lotharinga,  maliciously.  "Let  us  talk  of  something 
more  genteel." 

But  the  conversation  dragged,  and  ere  long  she  had 
her  cab  summoned  and  drove  home,  cheered  by  the 
belief,  perhaps,  that  she  had  spoiled  Colonel  Peyton's 
market  with  Miss  Beaufort.  It  is  entertaining,  by-the- 
way,  to  think  what  would  have  been  her  stupefaction 
and  wrath,  could  she  have  learned  that  the  two  sup- 
posed lovers  whom  she  was  trying  to  separate  were  hus- 
band and  wife. 

The  moment  she  had  departed,  Virginia  turned  to 
her  aunt  and  asked,  "How  are  we  to  behave  to  Miss 
Macmorran  ?  " 


270  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  How  indeed  ?  "  answered  the  perplexed  lady.  "  I 
can't  believe  ill  of  that  modest,  simple  little  thing. 
And  yet,  there  is  that  old  affair  in  Charleston,  her  in- 
terest in  Mr.  Underhill,  you  remember.  She  may  be 
aided  by  rich  men,  and  under  obligations  to  them. 
Singers  sometimes  get  on  in  that  way,  and  of  course  get 
more  or  less  entangled.  It  is  a  little  suspicious — have 
you  noticed  the  fact,  Virginia  ? — that  she  doesn't  come 
to  see  us  of  late — not  once  since  Colonel  Peyton  ap- 
peared." 

'*I  shall  not  look  her  up,"  said  Virginia,  after  a 
long  meditation.  "But  if  she  calls,  I  shall  treat  her 
well,  until  we  learn  more." 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  We  know  nothing  as  yet.  Mrs. 
Fitz  James  is  a  flibbertigibbet.  I  wish  she  would  leave 
Paris."         ^ 

"  It  makes  my  course  all  the  easier,"  added  Virginia, 
with  a  sigh. 

''  What  course  ?     What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 

"  My  course  with  regard  to  Mr.  Peyton.'* 

Mrs.  Dumont  looked  undecided,  but  made  no  remon- 
strance. It  was  clear  that  both  ladies  had  believed 
somewhat  of  the  gabble  of  Lotharinga,  and  that  both 
were  now  convinced  that  it  would  be  well  to  see  as  little 
as  possible  of  the  charming  Colonel. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


A  WEEK  or  so  has  passed  since  Mrs.  Fitz  James's 
tattling  visit.  Looking  into  the  Beaufort  parlor,  we 
find  Virginia  alone,  bending  with  a  studious  frown  over 


TEE  BLOODY  CEASM.  271 

her  French  dictionary,  while  in  her  lap  lies  a  volume  of 
Thiers's  "  Histoire  de  I'Empire,"  a  work  naturally  inter- 
esting to  a  young  lady  who  had  grown  up  amid  battles 
and  besiegings.  Mrs.  Dumont  enters,  drops  upon  a 
sofa  with  the  tired  air  of  a  woman  who  has  done  much 
shopping,  and  gazes  thoughtfully  at  her  occupied,  si- 
lent niece.  After  a  little,  the  following  conversation 
ensues  : 

3£rs.  Dumont.  "  You  are  regularly  unsociable  to  me, 
Virginia.  You  hardly  speak  at  all  nowadays.  You 
work  all  the  while." 

Virginia  (without  looking  up).  "I  must  work. 
How  else  can  I  pass  my  time  ?  Oh,  it  is  so  dreary — 
this  foreign  life  !  " 

3Irs,  Dumont.  "  I  wish  you  wouldn't  study  so  much. 
That,  or  something,  is  wearing  on  you.  You  look 
jaded.  I  wish  you  would  see  more  people  and  have 
some  amusement." 

-  Virginia  (throwing  aside  her  book).  "  How  can  I 
see  more  people  ?  Nobody  comes,  except  General  Hil- 
ton and  Mrs.  Fitz  James  ;  and  I  wish  she  wouldn't." 

3frs.  Dumont  (picking  over  the  card-basket).  "  Has 
nobody  been  here  to-day  ?  When  was  this  card  left  ? 
Did  Colonel  Peyton  call  ?  " 

Virginia  (dryly).     "I  didn't  see  him." 

3Irs.  Dumont,  "  That  makes  three  times — three  re- 
fusals.    Do  you  mean  to  cut  him  altogether  ?  " 
Virginia.  "I  wish  he  wouldn't  call." 

Ifr^s.  Dumont.  "He  will  soon  stop,  at  this  rate — 
well,  perhaps  it  is  best." 

Virginia  (petulantly).  "  Best !  How  can  there  be 
any  best  about  it?  I  think  the  whole  thing  is — 
wretched ! " 


272  THE  BLOODY   CHASM, 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  But  haven't  you  helped  to  make  it 
so  ?  You  are  always  so  headlong  and  so  extreme,  Vir- 
ginia !  There  was  no  need  of  your  breaking  with  this 
gentleman  abruptly  and  completely.  I'm  sure  I  didn't 
advise  that." 

Virginia.  "You  remember  what  Mrs.  Fitz  James 
told  us,  I  suppose." 

Mrs.  Dumont,  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James  is  a  very  frivolous, 
unreliable  person.  When  you  have  had  my  experience 
of  the  world  you  won't  believe  everything  that  its  vota- 
ries say.  To  be  sure,  it  seems  extraordinary  to  suppose 
that  a  born  lady  would  lie.  But  I  have  sometimes  had 
my  doubts,  dear,  whether  she  is  a  born  lady.  I  never 
heard  of  the  Hedstones." 

Virginia.  "  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  the  horrid 
story.     Mrs.  Fitz  James  is  a  slanderous  little  vixen." 

Mrs.  Dmnont  (in  a  scream).  "Virginia!  what  lan- 
guage !  I'm  sure  that  I  never  heard  such  language 
among  the  ladies  of  our  family — that  is,  before  the 
war." 

Virginia.  "  I  perfectly  hate  her.  She  has  no  busi- 
ness to  bring  her  gossip  here — into  a  Beaufort  house." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  You  are  quite  right,  my  dear.  It 
was  a  great  impertinence.  I  don't  wonder  you  are  in- 
dignant. So,  then,  you  don't  believe  anything  wrong 
of  Colonel  Peyton  ?     In  that  case  why  refuse — " 

Virginia  (interrupting).  "I  don't  believe  anything 
wrong  of  Norah  Macmorran.  She  is  a  good,  sweet, 
nice  girl,  no  matter  if  she  is  plebeian." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  So  she  is  good  and  sweet.  I  wonder 
at  it.  She  is  a  Catholic.  It  is  the  church  of  Babylon. 
But  the  girl  herself  is  good." 

Virginia.  "  Well,  if  she   is   good,   he   is  good.     I 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  273 

don't  know  but  that  I  ought  to  receive  him.  Aunt, 
what  shall  I  do  ?     Do  tell  me  something  positive." 

Mrs.  Dumont.  "  Certainly.  I  want  you  to  behave 
like  a  Beaufort.  Remember  that,  whatever  you  decide 
upon,  do  it  like  a  Beaufort." 

Yirginia  (wearily).  "  Beaufort  !  I  am  almost  tired 
of  hearing  the  word.  I  wish  I  could  call  myself  some- 
thing else." 

Mrs.  Dumont  (rolling  up  her  eyes).  "Virginia! 
You  shock  me  beyond  expression.  I  never  heard  such 
wild  talk.  One  would  suppose  you  were  perfectly  reck- 
less and  capable  of  anything." 

The  indecisive  but  enlightening  dialogue  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  entrance  of  General  Hilton.  He  was 
clearly  in  a  sulky  humor  ;  he  looked  perplexed,  annoyed, 
and  injured.  Some  small  talk  opened,  but  he  took  little 
part  in  it,  and  seemed  to  be  meditating.  Presently  he 
asked  abruptly  and  with  an  appearance  of  excitement : 
"What  have  you  ladies  got  against  my  friend  Peyton  ? 
He  tells  me  that  all  of  a  sudden  he  is  refused  here. 
He  wanted  to  know  of  me  if  he  had  given  offense." 

Virginia  rose,  walked  languidly  to  the  piano,  and 
commenced  thrumming  abstractedly.  Mrs.  Dumont 
glanced  at  her  niece,  as  if  for  instructions,  and,  getting 
none,  ventured  to  say,  "  There  is  some  annoying  gossip 
about  Miss  Macmorran." 

"  O  aunt !  "  protested  Virginia,  wheeling  impatiently 
on  her  music-stool.    "  I  didn't  want  you  to  speak  of  her." 

"What  did  you  want  me  to  speak  of?"  implored 
the  bothered  Mrs.  Dumont. 

"  Oh,  never  mind,"  fretted  the  girl.  "  It  is  a  wretched, 
stupid  muddle,  but  you  may  as  well  go  on,  now  that 
you  have  begun." 


274  TEE  ELOODY  CEASM. 

"  What  about  Miss  Macmorran  ? "  demanded  the 
General,  indignantly,  as  if  he  would  like  to  challenge 
somebody. 

■ "  Miss  Macmorran  and  Mr.  Peyton,"  whispered  the 
elder  lady.     "  A  love-affair." 

Remembering,  no  doubt,  the  old  complication  be- 
tween Norah  and  Underhill,  the  General  looked  scared. 
He  was  so  really  and  thoroughly  dismayed,  indeed,  that 
at  first  he  could  only  murmur,  "  I  hope  not."  Then,  re- 
covering his  courage  a  little,  but  still  greatly  con- 
founded, he  inquired,  "  Do  you  mean  something  past, 
or  something  present  ?  " 

"  Both,"  returned  Mrs.  Dumont.  "  That  is  the  story. 
I  don't  quite  believe  it ;  I  don't  want  to  believe  it.  He 
is  too  much  the  gentleman,  I  think,  to  care  for  a  low- 
born girl.  And  she — well,  I  like  her,  too,  and  judge 
well  of  her." 

"There  is  no  love-affair  between  them,"  affirmed 
Hilton,  who  had  had  time  to  think  it  all  over.  "  If  it 
is  a  man  who  brings  this  story,  I'll  make  a  personal 
matter  of  it  with  him.  By  Jove  !  "  he  concluded,  look- 
ing about  him  wrathfully,  "  I  am  not  too  old  for  that 

yet." 

"  You  can't  do  that.  General,"  said  Mrs.  Dumont, 
simply,  and  without  either  surprise  or  agitation,  so  ac- 
customed was  she  to  the  idea  of  a  duel.  "It  is  a  wom- 
an." 

Then  the  General  made  a  guess.  "Mrs.  Fitz 
James  !  "  he_  scoffed.  "  What  do  you  believe  her  for  ? 
She  is  a  light,  wrong-headed,  misbelieving  little  bag- 
gage. Is  it  possible,  my  dear  ladies,  that  you  are  shut- 
ting your  doors  for  her  sake  on  a  dear  and  trusted  friend 
of  mine  ?  " 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  275 

Once  more  Virginia  wheeled  upon  her  pivot,  but 
this  time  with  a  fairly  cheerful  face.  "  I  want  you  to 
understand  us,  General,"  she  said.  "  Your  friend  may 
pay  attention  to  whom  he  pleases,  if  he  won't  trifle  with 
good  and  poor  people." 

"  Pitch  Mrs.  Fitz  James's  gossip  out  of  the  window," 
returned  Hilton.  "  There  has  been  no  trifling  here — no 
paying  attention  to  anybody." 

"  I  shall  write  him  a  note,"  decided  the  young  wom- 
an, with  her  characteristic  vim,  "  I  shall  ask  him  to 
tea." 

The  General  sometimes  forgot,  as  it  were,  that  Pey- 
ton was  Underbill  and  Virginia's  husband  ;  but  at  this 
moment  he  recalled  the  fact  vividly,  and  nearly  laughed 
in  the  wife's  unsuspicious  face.  He  struggled  with 
himself,  however,  and  merely  smiled  as  he  said,  "  I 
think  you  owe  him  as  much  as  that." 

Then  Mrs.  Dumont  queried  whether  the  invitation 
ought  not  to  be  in  her  name  and  handwriting. 

"I  want  to  write  it  myself,"  insisted  the  girl. — 
"  Mayn't  I,  General  ?  My  aunt  is  always  fearful  I  shall 
do  something  improper  in  a  married  woman." 

"I  don't  think  your  husband  would  object  to  your 
writing  that  note,"  answered  Hilton,  with  a  grin. 

"  What  did  you  say  that  for  ?  "  demanded  Virginia, 
evidently  both  puzzled  and  nettled. 

The  General  looked  at  her  ;  then  looked  at  vacancy 
with  an  air  of  meditation  ;  then  settled  his  eyes  on  her 
once  more,  and  responded  gravely,  "  I  think  you  are 
doing  something  improper  all  the  time." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what,"  was  the  pugnacious 
retort. 

"Living  without  your  husband,"  said  the  General, 


276  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

firmly.  "  Why  don't  you  put  an  end  to  the  worrying 
and  scandalous  situation  ?  There  is  no  longer  any  suffi- 
cient reason  for  it.  The  old  bitterness  has  faded  out  of 
your  soul,  at  least  in  a  great  measure.  Don't  deny  it ;  I 
can  see  it.  Time  and  distance  and  prosperity  have  done 
a  part  of  their  inevitable  work,  and  are  sure  to  do  the 
rest.  You  have  to  make  a  struggle  to  remember  your 
anger.  You  talk  about  hating  your  husband,  and  you 
are  merely  indifferent  to  your  marriage.  What  is  the 
use  of  a  make-believe  aversion  ?  What  nobility,  what 
sense  even,  is  there  in  living  a  lie  ?  It  has  just  occurred 
to  me  that  living  a  lie  is  as  unbecoming  to  a  Beaufort 
as  telling  one.  Besides,  you  are  driving  your  best 
friends  into  suppressions  and  prevarications  which  de- 
mean them,  and  which  they  are  ashamed  of.  We  have 
to  call  you  Miss  Beaufort  when  you  are  Mrs.  Underhill. 
We  have  to  fib  and  sham  and  lurk  and  sneak,  for  jowc 
sake." 

Both  the  ladies  seemed  to  be  completely  over- 
whelmed by  this  tremendous  indictment.  Mrs.  Dumont 
looked  at  Hilton  as  a  criminal  might  look  at  the  State's 
attorney,  and  feebly  stammered  forth,  "I'm  sure  it 
isn't  I  who  uphold  her  in  it."  Virginia,  reddening  to 
her  forehead,  forgot  to  make  the  simple  assertion  that 
she  did  hate  her  husband,  and  that  therefore  her  life 
was  not  entirely  a  lie.  She  merely  said,  in  a  hesitating 
and  undecided  way,  "  It  shows  such  a  lack  of  character 
to  change." 

"  Ah,  my  child  !  "  sighed  the  General,  "  you  are 
just  like  all  of  us  ;  you  are  just  like  the  whole  South. 
You  make  yourself  miserable  by  refusing  to  recognize 
an  accomplished  fact." 

**.  I  proposed  this  separation,"  pleaded  Virginia.     "  I 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  277 

think  it  would  be  contemptible  in  me  to  propose  to  give 
it  up." 

"Look  into  the  future,"  said  Hilton,  pursuing  his 
advantage  with  something  like  oratorical  vehemence. 
"  What  have  you  to  hope  for  in  life  ?  what  usage  of  the 
affections  ?  what  womanly  development  ?  what  chance 
of  happiness  ?  Think  of  ten  years  hence — thirty  years 
— fifty  !  You  are  preparing  for  yourself  a  lonely  and 
melancholy  old  age." 

"  I  sha'n't  live  to  be  old — I  hope  not,"  muttered  Vir- 
ginia. 

"  My  child,  that  is  wrong,"  put  in  Mrs.  Dumont. 
"  You  will  live  as  long  as  your  Maker  pleases." 

"  You  will  be  a  solitary,  friendless  old  worldling," 
groaned  Hilton,  honestly  and  profoundly  touched  by 
the  picture  he  was  drawing,  so  potent  was  the  man's 
imagination  and  so  tender  his  heart.  "  Do  you  remem- 
ber Pope's  verses — *  See  how  the  world  its  veterans  re- 
wards :  a  youth  of  frolics,  an  old  age  of  cards ' — and  so 
on?" 

"  They  don't  apply  to  me.  Have  I  had  a  youth  of 
frolics?  I  had  a  youth  of  calamities  and  solemnities. 
My  life  ought  to  be  passed  in  remembering  them.  It 
must  be  sacred  to  them." 

"  You  are  young  yet,"  said  the  General.  "  Pardon 
me  for  being  honest  and  bold  with  you.  The  frolics 
may  come." 

"  Never  !  "  declared  Virginia,  reddening  to  her  hair 

again. 

"  Will  you  write  to  your  husband  ?  "  he  asked,  sig- 
nificantly.    "  Shall  I  write  for  you  ?  " 

The  girl  wavered  in  silence  for  a  little,  but  at  last 
shook  her  head. 


278  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

Hilton  surveyed  her  a  moment,  and  then  made  a  ter- 
rible home-thrust.  "  Shall  I  ask  Colonel  Peyton  to  do 
it  ?  "  he  inquired. 

There  came  into  the  girl's  face  an  expression  which 
was  either  a  consciousness  of  guilt,  or  a  consciousness 
that  a  colorable  charge  had  been  brought  against  her. 
She  tried  to  show  resentment,  and  could  not ;  she  mere- 
ly murmured,  "  What  has  he  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  What  I  mean  is,  that  you  ought  to  tell  Peyton  of 
your  marriage,"  continued  the  General.  "  The  truth 
would  save  entanglements  and  misconceptions.  It  will 
bring  you  his  respect.  I  am  sure  that  you  had  better 
let  him  be  informed.  If  you  do  not,  you  will  regret 
it." 

"  It  would  be  more  like  a  Beaufort,  my  dear,"  urged 
Mrs.  Dumont. 

"  Well,  if  I  ought,  I  must,"  hesitated  Virginia.  She 
looked  very  undecided,  however,  and  presently  sub- 
joined, "  I  will  think  of  it." 

When  Hilton  next  saw  Underhill,  he  said  to  him, 
"  You  can  call  on  the  Beauf orts  now."  Then  he  burst 
into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter  and  added  :  "  I  am 
afraid  your  wife  is  falling  in  love  with  you.  She  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  herself." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

When  Underhill  next  called  at  the  Beaufort  apart- 
ment, he  obtained  prompt  admission  and  found  his  wife 
alone. 

They  were  heartily  glad  to  see  each  other,  and  could 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  279 

not  quite  disguise  the  magnetic  fact.  In  spite  of  Vir- 
ginia's efforts  at  reserve — if,  indeed,  she  remembered  to 
make  any — the  interview  had  the  air  of  a  meeting  be- 
tween warm  friends  who  are  delighted  to  end  a  differ- 
ence. Underbill  uttered  his  pleasure  at  finding  her  once 
more  with  a  fervor  of  feeling  which  gave  the  words  ten- 
fold their  natural  significance.  Virginia's  voice  was 
just  a  little  tremulous  as  she  replied  that  it  was  very- 
good  of  him  to  persist  in  calling  despite  of  disappoint- 
ments. Meanwhile  he  sat  so  near  her,  and  his  gaze 
dwelt  upon  her  so  admiringly,  that  ere  long  she  began 
to  color  feverishly  and  to  look  uneasy.  It  seemed  to 
her  necessary  that  the  subject  of  their  reconciliation  (so 
to  call  it)  should  be  dropped,  and  that  some  barrier 
should  be  put  up  athwart  this  too  emotional  interchange 
of  felicitations  and  amities. 

Was  it  best  to  make  revelation,  as  promptly  as  pos- 
sible, of  her  marriage  ?  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  it  ; 
the  burning  in  his  eyes  told  her  that — the  burning  in 
her  cheeks  also.  But  how  could  such  a  delicate  and 
embarrassing  confession  be  accomplished  ?  To  drag  it 
bluntly  into  the  dialogue  would  look  like  an  assumption 
that  her  visitor  cared  for  her  and  needed  a  warning. 
The  subject  must  be  reached  through  some  other  sub- 
ject ;  the  revelation  must  glide  in,  as  it  were,  by  acci- 
dent. Perhaps  it  was  chance,  perhaps  it  was  a  deceiv- 
ing undercurrent  of  interested  curiosity,  which  led  her 
to  turn  the  conversation  upon  N^orah  Macmorran. 

"  You  have  heard  me  mention  her,"  she  continued, 
meanwhile  avoiding  to  look  at  him,  lest  she  should  see 
guilt  in  his  face.  "I  wish  you  could  hear  her  sing. 
She  has  a  delicious  voice  and  a  great  deal  of  feeling. 
She  sometimes  comes  to  practice  with  me  ;  but  I  haven't 


280  THE  BLOODY  CHASM, 

seen  her  for  quite  a  while.  I  am  afraid  she  has  had 
some  trouble.     I  ought  to  go  and  look  her  up." 

"  I  know  her,"  replied  Underhill,  with  entire  com- 
posure of  manner,  so  little  did  the  name  of  Norah  move 
him,  now  that  he  was  in  love  with  his  wife.  "  I  met  her 
at  the  Luxembourg  with  Mr.  De  Bethune,  a  few  days 
ago.     She  was  well  then." 

His  calmness,  and  the  mention  of  De  Bethune  as 
Norah's  escort,  clearly  gave  great  satisfaction  to  Vir- 
ginia. She  went  on  buoyantly  with  the  subject.  Miss 
Macmorran  was  lovely.  She  came  of  commonplace  peo- 
ple, but  she  was  herself  very  lovely.  As  for  her  sing- 
ing, she  was  almost  a  great  singer,  and  yet  so  charm- 
ingly unobtrusive  and  modest  !  That  nun-like  way  of 
hers  was  fascinating,  and  all  the  more  so  because  it  ex- 
pressed her  character.  Was  it  possible  that  she  had 
allowed  Mr.  De  Bethune  to  wait  on  her  to  the  Luxem- 
bourg ?  Well,  so  she  might  ;  he  was  a  thorough  gen- 
tleman and  a  good  man  ;  he  was  fit  company  for  a  Lady 
Superior. 

"  Really,  that  inspires  me  with  an  audacious  idea," 
she  added,  her  eyes  sparkling.  "  I  want  to  befriend 
Norah  ;  I  want  to  get  her  married — if  that  is  befriend- 
ing her." 

"  I  believe  people  generally  think  so,"  replied  Un- 
derhill, with  an  imploring  sort  of  smile. 

"It  may  not  be  so — not  always,"  said  Virginia, 
turning  grave  again.  "  There  are  some  unhappy  mar- 
riages.    I  will  tell  you  of  one — some  time." 

She  so  evidently  referred  to  her  own,  and  was  so 
obviously  upon  the  brink  of  speaking  plainly  of  it,  that 
her  husband  trembled  and  turned  red. 

"  Now,  who  shall  the  man  be  ?  "  she  resumed,  after  a 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  281 

moment.     "  Where  shall  I  find  a  husband  for  Miss  Mac- 
morran  ?  " 

"Let  her  find  him  herself,"  he  answered,  incautious- 
ly.    "  It  is  the  simple  old  way." 

"It  is  the  American  way,  and  the  good  way.  A 
husband  who  is  found  for  you  is  a  grievance  and  a  dan- 
ger." 

"  Always  ?  "  asked  Underbill,  soberly.  "Not  always, 
I  hope  and  trust.  There  are  many  happy  marriages  in 
France,  although  they  are  usually  arranged  by  the 
mothers." 

Virginia  shook  her  head  gravely  ;  she  held  it  a  hard 
thing  to  believe.  "  I  have  such  a  prejudice  against  ar- 
ranged marriages  !  "  she  sighed.  "  I  will  tell  you  why — 
some  day." 

Once  more  she  had  made  an  effort  to  reach  her  con- 
fession, and  once  more  some  confused  emotion  had 
caused  her  to  fail.  It  was  far  easier  to  talk  of  Miss 
Macmorran  than  of  herself. 

"  What  was  I  saying  ?  "  she  muttered,  after  a  brief 
silence.  "  Oh,  I  was  proposing  to  find  a  husband  for 
Norah.  It  won't  be  easy,  I  fear.  She  has  no  family 
and  no  money.  A  rich  gentleman  might  not  want  her, 
and  a  poor  gentleman  perhaps  couldn't  afford  her. 
What  is  to  be  done  about  it  ?  I  should  hate  to  see  her 
fall  to  some  common  fellow.  But  where  is  the  uncom- 
mon fellow  who  will  take  her?  " 

Underbill  liked  the  subject.  In  the  first  place,  it 
was  quite  enough  for  him  that  his  wife  there  was  inter- 
ested in  it.  In  the  second  place,  as  we  know  full  well, 
he  bore  earnest  good-will  to  the  modest  and  pretty 
Irish  girl,  and  had  also  a  feeling  that  he  owed  her  repa- 
ration for  peace  disturbed.     After  pondering  the  match- 


282  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

making  problem  for  a  little,  he  looked  up  with  a  smile 
of  satisfaction  and  said  :  "  Why  not  De  Bethune  ?  I 
thought  she  had  the  air  of  liking  him." 

"  Did  she  ?  "  laughed  Virginia,  delighted,  no  doubt, 
with  the  amiable  fact  itself,  but  perhaps  equally  de- 
lighted with  her  poet's  obvious  pleasure  in  mentioning 
it.  It  was  very  clear  to  her  mind  by  this  time  that 
Lotharinga's  tale  about  a  flirtation  between  Colonel 
Peyton  and  Miss  Macmorran  was  a  silly  or  wicked  fib. 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  so  nice  !  "  she  went  on.  "  They 
are  just  suited  to  each  other — both  Catholics,  both  mu- 
sicians ;  and  he  likes  her  character  and  ways — I  know 
he  does.  He  really  thinks  she  is  quite  high-bred,  be- 
cause she  has  that  monastic  meekness  and  shyness,  like 
a  demoiselle  Fran^aise.  As  for  her  family,  what  does 
that  matter,  over  here  ?  Speaking  two  languages,  and 
singing  almost  well  enough  for  a  prima  donna,  she 
would  be  quite  a  star  in  bourgeois  society.  There  is 
only  one  difiiculty  :  Mr.  De  Bethune — poor,  nice  gentle- 
man— ^has  no  money  ;  and,  like,  all  decent  Frenchmen, 
he  thinks  it  wrong  to  marry  on  nothing  ;  that  is,  I  sup- 
pose he  thinks  so." 

Colonel  Peyton — alias  Colonel  Underhill — suggested 
that  that  was  a  difficulty  which  might  be  got  over. 
Then  followed  a  long  financial  conversation  of  a  most 
opulent  and  munificent  character.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  both  these  young  persons  were  very  wealthy  ; 
that  the  lady  had  some  thirty  thousand  a  year,  and  the 
gentleman  considerably  more.  It  w^as  quite  easy  for 
people  in  such  comfortable  circumstances  to  suggest  ar- 
rangements which  would  justify  a  poor  professor  of 
music  in  marrying  a  penniless  church-singer. 

After  a  time  it  became  apparent  to  Virginia  that  the 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  283 

Colonel  was  talking  as  if  his  pocket-book  were  concerned 
in  the  proposed  settlement. 

"  But  this  money  mustn't  come  from  yoi^,"  she  said, 
with  her  usual  frankness  and  decision.  "  She  wouldn't 
take  it  from  you,  nor  would  Mr.  De  Bethune  like  to 
have  her,  I  presume." 

"It  could  come  from  me  by  passing  through  your 
hands,"  he  suggested.  "  Why  not  from  me — at  least 
in  part  ?  " 

Virginia  shook  her  head  ;  she  alone  must  give  the 
dowry.  Underbill  bowed  to  her  judgment  with  a  look 
of  admiration  followed  by  a  smile  of  amusement.  Ap- 
parently it  entertained  him  to  see  his  wife  thus  grandly 
dispensing  and  donating  what  had  once  been  his  uncle's 
treasure,  and,  but  for  her,  would  have  been  his  own. 
Presently  he  made  bold  to  remark  that,  before  the 
match  should  be  proposed  to  De  Bethune,  it  would  be 
well  to  see  a  lawyer  and  inquire  into  the  methods  and 
proprieties  of  matrimonial  endowments.  Virginia  re- 
plied with  charming  simplicity  that  General  Hilton  was 
one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Charleston  bar,  and  that  she 
would  consult  him. 

"  The  General  is  not  qualified  to  act  here,"  Under- 
bill delicately  observed,  not  caring  to  tell  her  that  her 
trusted  friend  was  ignorant  of  the  civil  code.  "  I  think 
you  will  need  a  French  attorney,"  he  added.  "  I  happen 
to  have  with  me  the  address  of  one,  and  a  very  able  one, 
as  my  bankers  tell  me.     Allow  me  to  give  it  to  you." 

He  drew  a  number  of  papers  from  his  pocket,  selected 
a  card  from  among  them,  and  handed  it  to  Virginia. 
She  took  it,  thanked  him  with  a  smile,  and  went  to  de- 
posit it  in  her  writing-desk.  The  skirt  of  her  dress  caught 
a  slip  of  manuscript   which  lay  upon  the   floor,  and 


284  THE  BLOODY  CEASM. 

dragged  it  half  across  the  room.  Neither  of  them  no- 
ticed it,  and  the  dialogue  was  resumed.  They  had  just 
reached  the  judicious  decision  that  nothing  should  be 
done  without  legal  advice,  when  Mrs.  Dumont  entered, 
saluted  the  visitor  cordially,  noted  the  stray  bit  of  paper, 
picked  it  up  and  handed  it  to  Virginia. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  was  the  very  natural  question  of 
a  middle-aged  lady  who  had  mislaid  her  glasses,  and 
could  not  read  without  them. 

"  Verses  !  "  exclaimed  the  worshiper  of  poesy  with 
a  little  laugh  of  pleasure.  "It  is  your  handwriting. 
Colonel  Peyton.  Did  you  bring  them  for  me  ?  Please 
let  me  look  at  them." 

Underhill  apparently  had  not  brought  the  verses  for 
her,  and  he  rather  allowed  consent  to  be  assumed  than 
uttered  it.  Thereupon,  in  a  tone  of  rapidly  deepening 
emotion,  Virginia  read  aloud  the  following  ballad.  : 

"Kayex  Van  Ross. 

" '  They  say  that  the  Vandals  will  come :. 

I  would  not  believe  it  till  now ; 
But  this  horrible  throbbing  and  hum 

Is  the  tramp  of  their  march  drawing  near, 
And  the  roll  of  their  barbarous  drum : 

So  let  me  remember  my  vow, 
And  hasten  forth  robed  for  my  bier, 
To  strike  at  the  joy  of  their  cheer, 

To  strike  and  leave  some  one  dumb. 


(( ( 


My  lineage  is  gentle  and  old. 
And  my  heart  is  virginal  pure ; 

My  hair  is  a  girl's  sunny  gold, 
And  my  hand  is  of  satiny  gloss 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  285 

But  no  heart  can  more  bravely  endure 

The  peril  of  life  and  the  loss  ; 
No  hand  with  the  pistol  is  truer, 
And  I'll  shoot  the  first  Yankee  as  sure 

As  my  name  is  Raven  Van  Ross  !  ' 

"  She  speeded  forth  into  the  night, 

And  saw  the  dark  column  anigh ; 
She  stood  there  in  delicate  white, 

A  woman  too  lovely  to  die — 
Too  precious  for  aught  but  the  sight 

Of  Love,  and  the  kiss  of  his  mouth. 
And  the  clasp  of  his  yearning  delight; 
But,  maddened  by  eclioes  of  fight, 

And  the  passionate  blood  of  the  South, 

"She  shot!    But  no  death-cry  replied; 

From  the  column  responded  no  ball ; 
It  trampled  on  massive  and  wide, 

From  curbstone  to  curbstone  across, 
Dumb,  solemn  and  black  as  a  pall, 

Unknowing  that  close  by  its  side, 
Withdrawn  from  life's  hyssop  and  gall. 
Heart-broken,  death-smitten,  lay  aU 

That  remained  of  Raven  Van  Ross." 

A  year  before,  Yirginia  could  not  have  read  these 
verses  aloud.  Now,  by  a  great  effort,  she  was  able  to 
finish  them  ;  but  with  the  last  line  she  burst  out  weep- 
ing violently.  Mrs.  Dumont,  who  had  a  tear  or  two  on 
her  cheeks,  glanced  at  the  Colonel  as  if  she  were  moved 
to  tell  him  something,  but  could  not  because  of  the  pres- 
ence of  her  niece.  Underhill,  who  knew  perfectlv  well 
that  his  poem  narrated  the  death  of  Virginia's  sister, 
watched  her  in  silent  pain  and  anxiety.     It  was  a  long 


286  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

time — that  is,  it  seemed  a  long  time — before  any  one 
spoke.  At  last  the  shaken  girl  recovered  a  little  self- 
control,  and,  looking  Underhill  piteously  in  the  face, 
sobbed  out  :  "  Did  you  know  that  that  was  my  sister  ? 
Did  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  The  incident  was  related  to  me,"  he  replied,  eva- 
sively. "  It  was  so  startling  that  it  took  possession  of 
my  imagination.  I  may  say  that  I  couldn't  help  writ- 
ing the  ballad.  But  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  chanced  to 
bring  it  here." 

"  How  strange  !  "  murmured  Virginia.  "  You  seem 
to  be  doomed  to  move  me  ;  there  is  a  fatality  about  it. 
Will  you  give  me  the  poem  ?  It  is  a  companion-piece 
to  the  other  ;  they  are  both  epitaphs.  I  wish  that  you 
would  give  it  to  me." 

"  You  shall  do  as  you  like  with  it,"  he  bowed.  Then, 
feeling,  no  doubt,  that  to  prolong  the  interview  would 
be  to  prolong  a  pain,  he  begged  forgiveness  for  having 
reawakened  grief,  and  took  his  departure. 

"  Call  again — soon,"  said  Virginia,  very  gently,  and 
he  replied,  smiling,  "  Thanks  for  your  permission." 

Scarcely  had  he  gone — scarcely  had  this  very  kindly 
farewell  been  uttered — when  Mrs.  Dumont  turned  to 
her  niece  and  asked,  gravely,  "  Does  he  understand  that 
you  are  married  ?  " 

"  I  tried  to  tell  him — and  couldn't,"  confessed  the 
girl,  shedding  tears  once  more — this  time  tears  of  shame 
and  humiliation. 

"  O  Virginia  !  Where  will  this  end  ?  "  groaned  Mrs. 
Dumont. 


THE  BLOODY  CEASM.  287 

CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

It  was  a  period  of  vacillations  with  the  usually  con- 
fident and  decided  Virginia. 

When  her  aunt  asked  her  "  where  this  was  to  end," 
she  replied  impetuously,  "  I  don't  care  if  it  ends  in  the 
Seine  !  " 

"Virginia,  hush  !  "  exclaimed  the  elder  lady,  indig- 
nantly. "  I  know,  of  course,  that  you  don'  tmean  what 
you  say.  But  I  don't  wish  to  hear  such  reckless  and 
unchristian  remarks  from  a  person  of  my  family." 

Next  morning,  appearing  late  and  pale  at  the  break- 
fast-table, the  unhappy  child  meekly  announced  that 
she  desired,  if  her  aunt  did  not  object,  to  quit  Paris  as 
quickly  as  possible  and  return  to  Charleston. 

"I  dare  say  it  is  the  best  place  for  us,"  assented 
Mrs.  Dumont.  "  South  Carolinians  are  happier  in  South 
Carolina  than  they  can  be  anywhere  else.  Besides,  you 
will  get  rid  of  your  present  perplexities  and  annoyances, 
my  dear." 

Later  in  the  day  our  troubled  and  irresolute  heroine 
sent  a  note  to  General  Hilton,  setting  forth  that  she 
wished  to  go  to  Milan  to  continue  her  musical  studies, 
and  asking  if  he  could  find  it  convenient  and  pleasant  to 
accompany  them  thither. 

The  result  was  a  prompt  call  from  her  old  friend,  and 
a  vague  but  eager  plea  against  the  project  of  quitting 
Paris,  the  conversation  eventually  running  on  to  the 
subject  of  Colonel  Peyton,  and  the  urgent  propriety  of 
informing:  him  as  to  the  marriacje. 

Virginia's  next  change  of  opinion  and  purpose  will 
appear  in  a  dialogue  which  took  place  between  herself 
and  Mrs.  Fitz  James.     The  tricky  but  honestly  love-lorn 


288  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

little  widow  called  with  her  brother,  but  soon  became 
visibly  anxious  to  have  him  take  his  departure. 

"  When  are  you  going,  Frank  ?  "  she  asked  for  the 
thii'd  or  fourth  time,  beginning  to  look  a  little  cross. 

"  Going  where  ?  "  queried  the  urbane  tease. 
"  Why,  to  the  club — to  the  boulevards — wherever 
you  do  go.     You  know  well  enough  where  to  go  when 
I  want  you  to  stay." 

"I  thought  I  was  wanted  here — not  by  you,  of 
course,"  trifled  Frank. — "  Miss  Beaufort,  you  couldn't 
think  of  sparing  me,  could  you  ?  " 

"  To  oblige  your  sister,  I  might,"  replied  Virginia,  in 
a  tone  of  such  complete  indifference  that  Mr.  Hedstone 
smiled  again  and  bowed  ironically. 

"  Do  trot  off,  Frank,"  urged  Lotharinga.  "  I  have 
something  awfully  particular  to  say  to  Miss  Beau- 
fort." 

"  It  may  be  worth  your  saying  and  not  worth  her 
hearing,"  tranquilly  rejoined  the  brother,  as  he  took  his 
sauntering  departure. 

The  moment  the  two  young  women  were  left  alone, 
Mrs.  Fitz  James  began  to  prattle  about  Colonel  Peyton. 
She  talked  in  a  hurried,  nervous  twitter,  glancing  quick- 
ly at  Virginia  and  away  again,  and  trying  in  vain  to 
wear  a  smile  of  light  composure. 

"  So  you  have  gone  to  seeing  him  again  ?  "  she  said. 
"  Well,  I  don't  blame  you  ;  so  have  I.  He  is  too  irre- 
sistible for  anything.  Such  a  man  as  that  can  do  what 
he  pleases,  and  a  lady  must  put  up  with  it." 

Virginia  was  apparently  out  of  patience  with  the 
widow,  and  had  decided  to  give  her  a  smart  setting 
down.  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James,"  she  replied,  looking  her 
straight  in  the  face,  ^'  you  are  entirely  mistaken  in  your 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM,  289 

judgment  of  Colonel  Peyton.  He  is  a  thoroughly  high- 
minded,  good-hearted  man." 

Lotharinga  was  not  crushed  ;  on  the  contrary,  she 
was  delighted.  "  You  don't  say  that  he  doesn't  care  for 
that  girl !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  happy  face.  The 
truth  is,  that  she  had  partly  believed  her  story  about  the 
scene  at  the  Luxembourg,  and  that  she  had  been  at 
least  as  jealous  of  Norah  Macmorran  as  of  her  friend 
here  present. 

"  He  is  a  perfectly  high-minded,  kind-hearted  man," 
repeated  Virginia,  too  angry  with  the  subject  to  enter 
into  it  specifically. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  so  !"  returned  Mrs. 
Fitz  James,  with  a  smile  of  honest  joy.  "He  had 
stopped  calling  on  me,"  she  rattled  on.  "  That  is,  you 
know,  he  called  less  often  ;  and  I  suspected  it  was  on 
her  account.     I  am  so  glad — " 

"  You  made  me  do  him  a  very  great  injustice,"  in- 
terrupted Virginia,  reproachfully,  as  if  embittered  by 
Lotharinga's  happiness. 

"What ?"  queried  the  little  widow  eagerly.  "Did 
you  have  a  scene  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  our  noble  young  South  Caro- 
linian, drawing  herself  up  in  amazement  and  hauteur. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  nodded  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  not  in  the 
least  hurt,  so  interested  was  she  and  so  obtuse  to  scorn. 
"  One  doesn't  talk  outright  of  some  things.  What  was  I 
thinking  of  ?  "  she  added  with  a  little  make-believe  air 
of  indifference.  "  I  wanted  to  ask  you  something.  Oh 
— so  you  have  made  up  again  *" 

The  question,  when  it  was  permitted  to  come  out, 
revealed  deep  and  piteous  eagerness.  It  was  answered 
by  a  grave,  settled  gaze,  which  came  from  solemn  trouble 
13 


290  TEE  BLOODY   CHASM. 

and  perplexity  of  spirit,  but  which  to  the  poor  little 
interrogator  seemed  contemptuous  and  very  cruel. 

"  You  are  so  reserved  and  proud,  Miss  Beaufort !  " 
she  said,  or  rather  gasped.  "  I  can't  say  hardly  any- 
thing to  you  that  I  want  to." 

Virginia  drew  a  long  breath — the  forced  breath  of 
one  who  struggles  for  speech — and  then  in  a  cold,  low 
monotone  replied,  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  I  don't  mean  to  be 

uncivil." 

"  I  wish  I  could  understand  you,"  complained  Lotha- 
ringa,  very  near  to  whimpering.  She  pondered  a  mo- 
ment, biting  her  restless  lips,  glancing  uneasily  about 
the  room,  griping  her  parasol  unconsciously  in  her 
small  glove,  the  picture  and  incarnation  of  a  little  soul 
mightily  tempest-tossed.  At  last,  speaking  so  rapidly 
and  gaspingly  that  the  words  could  hardly  be  under- 
stood, she  asked,  "  Do  you  care  for  Colonel  Peyton  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Fitz  James  !  You  perfectly  amaze  me  !  "  ex- 
claimed Virginia.  The  query  struck  deep  :  she  could 
not  sit  still  under  the  blow  ;  she  rose  and  walked  the 
room,  as  a  worried  man  does.  After  one  turn,  however, 
she  stopped  in  front  of  the  dismayed  Lotharinga,  and 
said  in  a  strong,  steady  voice  :  "  Mrs.  Fitz  James,  I  can 
clear  this  up  in  one  word.     I  am — married  ! " 

"  Married — you  ? — o — h  !  " 

It  is  utterly  impossible  to  give  an  idea  of  the  into- 
nations of  amazement,  of  relief,  and  of  joy  with  which 
the  enamored  widow  uttered  these  three  words.  It  is 
almost  equally  impossible  to  describe  how  much  sweet- 
er and  finer  Lotharinga  looked  than  she  in  heart  could 
possibly  be.  She  was,  as  we  already  know,  a  common- 
place, selfish,  unscrupulous,  and  almost  mean  little  creat- 
ure.     But  at  this  moment,  embellished  and   ennobled 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  291 

by  love,  gratitude,  and  happiness,  she  had  the  air  of  an 
angel,  and  seemed  worthy  of  any  man's  adoration. 

"  And  I  am  not  married  to  Colonel  Peyton,"  contin- 
ued Virginia.  "  That  settles  it,  that  I  can  not  care  for 
him." 

Mrs.  Fitz  did  not  think  to  dispute  this  inferential 
statement,  although,  alas  !  it  might  reasonably  have  been 
questioned.  Just  then  she  had  no  thoughts  but  for  that 
surprising  confession  of  marriage,  and  for  the  palpitat- 
ing gladness  which  it  brought  her.  A  bystander  might, 
perhaps,  have  heard  her  worthless  little  heart  beat  as 
she  gasped  out :  "  Who  would  have  imagined  !  Is  it 
possible  ! " 

She  meditated  a  moment,  and  then  added,  with  a 
bright,  sweet  smile  :  "  Qh,  my  dear  friend,  I  am  so 
obliged  to  you  for  telling  me  this  !  You  have  taken 
such  a  load  off  my  mind  !  I'll  be  perfectly  frank,  now. 
I  thought  he  liked  you  best,  and — I'll  tell  you  the  whole 
truth,  now — I  perfectly  worship  him — there  !  " 

She  ended  her  confession  with  such  a  throb  of  emo- 
tion that  her  voice  broke,  and  the  tears  came  into  her 
eyes. 

"We  can  imagine  the  feelings  with  which  Virginia 
listened  ;  but  her  utterance  revealed  naught  of  them 
when  she  answered.  "You  can  inform  him  of 
my  marriage,"  she  said.  "I  would  prefer  to  have 
you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  ! "  smiled  Mrs.  Fitz,  so  simply,  and 
gratefully,  and  joyously,  that  it  is  difficult  not  to  pity 
her,  knowing  as  we  do  the  hopelessness  of  her  love. 
"But,  perhaps  he  wouldn't  believe  me,"  she  instantly 
suggested.  "Everybody  calls  you  Miss  Beaufort." 
Then  an  odd  expression  of  mingled  inquisitiveness  and 


292  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

amusement  came  over  her  face,  as  she  added,  "  What 
is  your  name  ?  " 

"Mrs.  Underhill."  Virginia  uttered  the  word  with 
an  unwillingness  and  pain  which  we  can  understand  ; 
but,  singular  as  the  tone  was,  it  did  not  rouse  the  slight- 
est interest  or  sympathy  in  Lotharinga. 

"  Underhill  ?  You  don't  say  so  ! "  she  chattered, 
gayly.  "It  seems  like  a  dream.  To  think  you  have 
been  married  all  this  time  !  Well,  life  is  a  romance. 
It's  stranger  than  fiction.  I  guess  Colonel  Peyton  will 
think  so.  Won't  he  be  surprised  !  He  will  be  very 
much  surprised,  my  dear,  after  all  that  has  happened. 
In  fact,  I  suppose,  he  will  be  incredulous,  at  first.  He 
won't  believe  me — that  is,  I  guess  he  won't.  How  am 
I  to  make  him  believe  it,  unless  you  tell  him  of  it 
too  ?  " 

"  I  have  decided  to  tell  him  the  next  time  I  see  him," 
said  Virginia.  Her  voice  was  a  little  unnatural,  a  little 
tremulous,  as  she  made  this  promise.  It  is  likely  enough 
that  she  found  her  visitor's  cheerfulness  and  eagerness 
hard  to  bear. 

"  Oh,  thank  you — thank  you  !  "  exclaimed  Lotha- 
ringa, jumping  up  and  kissing  our  unhappy  heroine. 
"  I  see  it  is  an  effort  for  you  to  talk  of  it.  I  won't  ask 
any  questions.  You  have  my  sympathy,  darling,  and 
my  best  love.  But  of  course  your  decision  is  right," 
she  added,  prudently.  "  A  marriage,  however  unhappy, 
is  always  best  announced.  It  saves  misunderstandings 
and  imbroglios." 

"  Don't  be  anxious,"  Mrs.  Underhill  could  not  help 
retaliating.     "I  won't  forget  to  announce  it." 

Lotharinga  accepted  the  scoff  with  patience,  and 
even  with  sweetness.     She  would  probably  have  let  Vir- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  293 

ginia  box  her  ears  without  showing  resentment,  so  hap- 
py was  she  over  the  news  of  this  matrimony,  and  so 
eager  to  have  it  made  public. 

"  Well,  I  must  go,"  she  said,  shaking  out  her  dress, 
and  surveying  herself  in  the  pier-glass.  "Dear  me, 
I'm  so  glad  I  came  !  Good-by,  my  dear  Virginia — my 
dear,  dear  Mrs.  Underhill,"  she  giggled,  and,  with  an- 
other kiss,  fluttered  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Shoktlt  after  the  departure  of  Lotharinga,  General 
Hilton  and  Underhill  arrived,  and  were  admitted  by 
Aunt  Chloe.  There  was  a  little  anteroom,  where  visit- 
ors of  a  common  class  were  usually  detained,  and  there 
the  two  gentlemen  chose  to  halt,  instead  of  pushing  on 
to  the  parlor. 

"We  met  Mrs.  Fitz  James  going  away,  aunty," 
said  the  General.  "Has  she  told  any  fibs  this  time — 
made  any  row  in  the  family  ?  " 

"  Kuther  'specs  not,"  replied  the  old  woman.  "  We 
all  seems  putty  quiet  in  our  minds.  Don'  rain  every 
time  pig  squeal." 

"  Very  good.  Now,  aunty,  I  want  to  see  Mrs.  Du- 
mont  on  business.  Ask  her  if  she  will  do  me  the  favor 
to  step  in  here.  Don't  bring  Miss  Ginny  along,  and 
don't  come  back  yourself.  It's  too  old  talk  for  young 
folks." 

"Mus'  be  mighty  ole,  if  it's  too  ole  fo'  me," 
chuckled  Aunt  Chloe,  as  she  seesawed  out  of  the  room. 


294  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

"  I'se  somethin'  like  a  turkey-buzzard  :  I  knows  mo'  dead 
folks  dan  livin'  ones." 

Presently  Mrs.  Dumont  came  stealthily  down  the 
passage,  and  entered  the  anteroom,  with  face  full  of 
expectancy.  She  glanced  almost  timorously  at  the 
Colonel,  as  if  he  were  a  man  who  held  much  of  Beau- 
fort destiny  in  his  grasp,  and  could  perhaps  work  mis- 
chief with  her  noble  name,  if  he  should  violently  will 
it.  Nevertheless,  she  gave  him  her  hand  pleasantly, 
and  murmured  a  word  or  two  of  stately  welcome. 

"Do  me  the  kindness  to  sit  down  by  me,"  the  Gen- 
eral said  to  her.  "I  have  an  important  secret  to  com- 
municate. As  for  the  Colonel,  we  must  get  him  out  of 
hearing,  and  he  had  better  step  in  and  chat  with  Vir- 
ginia." 

Underbill  bowed  in  silence,  and  took  his  way  to  the 
parlor.  He  looked  as  if  Hilton's  important  secret  con- 
cerned himself,  and  as  if  some  decisive  and  terrible  dis- 
closure were  at  hand.  His  face  lost  color,  and  his  eyes 
became  solemn  with  anxiety,  while  he  awaited  the  an- 
swer to  his  tap  on  the  door.  Hearing  at  last  the  words 
*'  Come  in,"  he  entered  very  softly,  and  with  a  bearing 
of  apology.  It  was  obvious  that  the  disguised  husband 
was  at  that  moment  very  much  afraid  of  the  unsuspect- 
ing wife. 

"  I  have  ventured  again,  you  see,"  he  said,  with  an 
almost  imploring  smile.    "  I  hope  you  won't  tire  of  me." 

Virginia  gazed  at  him  with  the  gravity  and  the 
speechless  embarrassment  of  one  who  feels  that  an  an- 
swer may  amount  to  much,  and  who  can  not  at  once  de- 
cide what  that  answer  should  be.  Her  trouble  of  mind, 
or  perhaps  one  should  rather  say  of  feeling,  must  have 
been  very  distressing,  for  she  turned  quite  pale. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  295 

"  Are  you  unwell  ?  "   he  asked,  after  one  agitated 
glance  at  her  colorless  face. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  murmured.  Norah  Macmorran  could 
not  have  been  more  meek  in  speech  or  subdued  in  man- 
ner. Presently  she  remembered  the  demands  of  cour- 
tesy, and  added  more  firmly,  "  Please  sit  down.  Colonel 
Peyton." 

Underbill  bowed  and  took  a  chair  near  her,  mean- 
time watching  her  with  a  tender  interest  which  he  not 
only  could  not  control,  but  did  not  even  strive  to  hide. 

"I  thought  General  Hilton  came  with  you,"  said 
Virginia,  who  would  have  given  anything  to  have  some 
one  enter  and  break  up  this  tete-d-tete,  although  she 
had  fully  determined  that  her  visitor  should  not  depart 
without  hearing  of  her  marriage. 

"  He  stopped  in  the  anteroom  to  speak  to  your 
aunt,"  explained  Underbill,  tremulously,  for  he  well 
knew  what  his  friend  was  to  reveal.  "  I  believe  he  has 
something  special  to  say  to  her." 

Virginia  glanced  at  the  door  with  an  air  of  inquiry 
and  wonder.  In  her  present  agitation  of  mind  every  in- 
cident was  significant.  Was  the  General  talking  about 
herself  and  that  lugubrious  secret  of  hers  which  she 
found  it  so  hard  to  confess  ?  Was  he,  by  bare  possi- 
bility, making  an  offer  of  marriage  to  Mrs.  Dumont  ? 
Well,  whatever  might  be  up,  it  was  a  private  interview 
between  a  gentleman  and  a  lady,  and  another  lady  must 
not  interfere.  She  could  not  summon  either  of  them  to 
help  her  face  Colonel  Peyton. 

"I  suppose  he  will  come  in  soon,"  she  murmured. 
"  When  he  does,  I  shall  have  something  to  tell  you." 

Underbill  smiled  faintly,  and  drew  a  deep  breath  of 
satisfaction,  such  as  men  draw  only  a  few  times  in  their 


296  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

lives.  It  was  clear  that  she  was  nerving  herself  to  re- 
veal her  marriage  ;  and  how  noble  it  was  in  her,  he 
said  to  himself,  the  love-lorn  young  fellow  ;  how  he  ad- 
mired and  adored  her  for  it ! 

Then  came  the  question  whether  he  should  speak  his 
love  before  she  reached  her  avowal.  Or,  rather,  the 
question  did  not  come  up  at  all  ;  he  did  not  argue  it, 
nor  even  think  of  it  :  he  gave  way  to  a  sudden  and  vio- 
lent impulse.  He  wanted  to  speak — to  say  to  his  wife 
that  he  worshiped  her — to  woo  her  and  win  her  and  se- 
cure her  at  once.  He  had  been  married  to  her "  for 
months,  and  had  never  given  her  a  sign  of  affection,  nor 
even  breathed  a  word  of  courtship.  He  must  utter  his 
heart,  and  utter  it  now. 

"  I  have  something  to  tell  yoi^,"  he  burst  forth.  "  I 
have  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you  with  all  my  soul  !  "  he 
hurried  on,  determined  not  to  be  quelled  or  impeded. 
"  I  do  love  you.     It  is  the  truth." 

Virginia  was  so  stunned  and  crushed  and  terrified 
that  she  was  an  object  of  pity.  For  a  moment  she  sat 
paralyzed  and  crouching,  merely  able  to  gasp  out  in  a 
stifled  voice,  "  O  Mr.  Peyton  !  "  Then,  making  a  con- 
vulsive effort,  like  a  person  struggling  out  of  a  night- 
mare, she  threw  upon  him  a  glance  which  was  partly 
beseeching  and  partly  horror,  and  strove  to  rise  and  es- 
cape. 

He  seized  her  hand  and  detained  her  by  force,  beg- 
ging her  the  while,  in  some  confused  stammering  or 
other,  to  listen  to  him. 

"  I  can  not — I  must  not  !  "  panted  Virginia,  writhing 
herself  to  her  feet.  "  Please  let  my  hand  go.  I  can't 
let  you  touch  me.     I  am — married  !  " 

"  I  want  one  word,"  he  urged,  rising  also  and  con- 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  297 

tinuing  to  hold  her,  in  spite  of  her  pleading  accents  and 
piteous  expression. 

"  I  can't — I  mustn't  hear  you  !  "  she  repeated. 
*'  Have  pity  on  me  !  Forgive  me.  I  have  deceived 
you.  1  never  can  look  you  in  the  face  again.  Oh,  do 
have  pity  on  me,  and  leave  me  for  ever  !  " 

"  One  word  !  "  insisted  Underhill,  speaking  out  of  a 
sudden  sense  of  triumph  which  made  him  tyrannical 
and  indifferent  to  everything  but  complete  and  instant 
domination.  "  I  must  know  one  thing.  I  have  a  right 
to  know  it,  after  all  that  has  passed.  If  you  had  been 
free,  could  I  have  hoped  ?  " 

Virginia  broke  loose  from  him,  covered  her  face 
with  both  her  hands,  and  burst  into  a  loud,  hysterical 
sobbing.  It  was  a  very  terrible  moment  of  humiliation, 
and  of  extorted  though  inarticulate  confession.  How- 
ever wayward  and  unwise  her  life  may  have  been  since 
her  marriage,  she  was,  in  that  abasing  and  torturing 
moment,  abundantly  punished. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  murmured  the  husband,  with 
extreme  tenderness — the  tenderness  of  sudden  compunc- 
tion as  well  as  of  profound  love — "  my  dear  and  good 
little  girl,  you  are  free  to  accept  me." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Virginia,  uncovering 
her  face  and  looking  straight  at  him  through  her  tears, 
as  frankly  as  a  child.  "  You  don't  know  about  me. 
What  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  know  a  great  deal,"  he  replied,  breaking  into  a 
laugh  of  happiness.  "  I  know  that  my  wife  loves  her 
husband  ! " 

She  stared  at  him  in  utter  stupefaction,  while  he 
caught  one  of  her  hands  and  covered  it  with  kisses. 
Then  she  abruptly  sprang  away  from  him,  ran  to  the 


298  TEE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

door  wbicli  connected  witli  the  anteroom,  tore  it  open, 
and  called  sharply,  "  General  Hilton  !  '* 

The  General's  tall  figure  and  haggard  aquiline  coun- 
tenance appeared  in  the  doorway.  He  looked  down 
upon  her  with  a  caressing  smile  of  comprehension,  and 
inquired,  "  What  do  you  want,  Mrs.  Underhill  ?  " 

"  Who  is  this  ?  "  she  demanded  in  a  panting  voice, 
throwing  her  hand  toward  the  supposed  Colonel  Pey- 
ton. 

"  That  is  Mr.  Henry  Edwards  Underhill — your  hus- 
band !  "  said  the  General,  his  smile  broadening  to  a  laugh 
as  he  shut  the  door  in  her  face. 

Virginia  stood  irresolute.  She  heard  her  aunt  gig- 
gle in  the  anteroom,  and  she  recoiled  a  little  from  the 
merriment.  Next  she  became  conscious  that  her  hus- 
band was  close  by  her  side,  and  that  there  was  a  sound 
of  a  heart  beating  terribly,  either  his  or  hers.  She 
turned  impulsively,  laid  both  her  hands  on  his  shoulder, 
and  dropped  her  face  between  them. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  little  wife  !  "  he  said  with  many  kiss- 
es.    "  Have  I  won  you  at  last  ?  " 

Virginia  was  crying  again.  She  cried  a  good  deal, 
but  she  remained  in  his  arms.  She  lay  perfectly  quies- 
cent, resting  her  whole  weight  on  him,  as  if  she  were 
utterly  exhausted.  At  last  she  put  her  mouth  softly  up 
to  his  cheek  and  kissed  him. 

"  You  belong  to  me,  heart  and  soul,  don't  you  ? " 
he  whispered. 

"Yes,"  she  whispered  back,  kissing  his  lips  and 
clinging  there,  as  Southern  in  her  love  as  she  had  been 
in  her  hate. 

Then  another  mercurial  change  came.  She  seized 
both  his  shoulders,  stood  off  from  him  at  arm's  length. 


THE  BLOODY  CHASM.  299 

gazed  at  him  with  an  air  of  wonder,  and  burst  into  an 
hysterical  laugh.  "  Oh,  you  deceiver  !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"It  was  a  regular  Yankee  trick.  Oh,  you  darling 
humbug  !     You  are  perfectly  wonderful !  " 

It  was  clear  enough  that,  when  she  said  "  wonder- 
ful," she  did  not  allude  to  the  trickery,  but  to  the  man. 
Her  eyes  sparkled  with  admiration  ;  she  was  already 
worshiping  him.  Next,  she  was  struggling  out  of  his 
arms  with  a  panting  whisper  of  "  Let  me  go — they  are 
coming ! " 

In  fact,  the  anteroom-door  swung  ajar,  and  Hilton 
tower^  in  the  opening,  with  Mrs.  Dumont  sniveling 
happily  behind  him. 

"We  can't  hear  anything  through  the  key-hole," 
grinned  the  General.  "We  are  dying  to  know  how 
you  like  it  as  far  as  you've  got." 

Virginia  dashed  at  him,  and  embraced  him  violently, 
exclaiming  :  "  You  dear  old  traitor  !  And  my  artful 
aunt,  too  !  "  she  added  with  more  kisses.  "  You  are  all 
Yankees  together.     Oh,  what  a  trick  to  play  on  me  !  " 

"I  knew  nothing  about  it,  my  child,"  eagerly  ex- 
plained Mrs.  Dumont,  who  even  in  that  joyous  moment 
could  blush  under  an  imputation  of  Yankeehood. 
"  General  Hilton  has  just  told  me  the  secret.  But  I  am 
truly  delighted,"  she  subjoined,  pushing  toward  Under- 
bill with  extended  hands.  "It  is  an  immense  relief — 
and  satisfaction.  The  ways  of  God  are  wonderful," 
she  whimpered,  as  she  fervently  exchanged  her  first  kiss 
with  a  Yankee. 

Just  then  an  expression  of  reminiscence,  of  regret, 
and  of  compunction,  came  into  Virginia's  face.  "  Oh, 
now,^'  she  sighed,  clutching  her  husband's  arms,  and 
looking  him  sorrowfully  in  the  eyes — "  7iow,  I  wish  we 


300  THE  BLOODY  CHASM. 

had  had  a  public  marriage.  "What  a  fool — what  a  hate- 
ful fool — I  was  !     Do  forgive  me." 

Woman-like,  she  cared  much  for  the  nuptial  solemni- 
ty and  parade,  and  supposed  that  he  too  would 
lament,  during  life,  that  the  world  had  not  been 
bidden. 

"  But  I  will  make  it  all  up  to  you,"  she  continued, 
tightening  her  grasp  on  him.  "  I  will  be  married  hence- 
forth as  woman  never  was.  You  shall  be  contented. 
Trust  me  ! " 

Presently,  Aunt  Chloe  and  Uncle  Phil  were  sum- 
moned to  greet  Miss  Virginia's  husband,  and  made 
their  entry  into  the  parlor  with  marvelous  courtesying, 
scraping,  and  smirking. 

"  Is  dat  ar  him  ?  "  demanded  the  old  woman,  staring 
at  the  newly  revealed  one,  as  if  he  were  something 
extra-human. — "  Masr  Peyton,  is  you  reely  Masr  Under- 
bill ? "  she  went  on,  shaking  hands.  "  De  Lawd  be 
praised,  though  he  might  'a'  fotched  it  roun'  sooner, 
'pears  to  me. — I  s'pose.  Miss  Ginny,  you's  satisfied  with 
him,  now  you's  got  him  in  you'  own  way.  S'pose  you's 
contented,  an'  feels  good,  an'  grateful.  Chick'n  nebber 
so  wicked  but  he  thinks  grasshopper  sent  by  de  Lawd. 
— An',  come  to  'fleet  on't,  Masr,  I  do  b'lieve  you's  been 
helped.  Hope  you'll  be  helped  to  stay  an'  abide,  though 
I'm  kinder  skeered  all  the  while,  too,  'less  you  should'n'. 
— Phil,  come  an'  shake  hands  with  him,  befo'  he  disap- 
peahs." 

"Boss,  I'se  glad  to  see  ye — I'se  mos'  powerful 
glad!"  grinned  Phil.  "I  'specs  you'll  hole  on  now  a 
spell,  won't  you.  Boss  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,  Phil,"  laughed  Underbill,  dropping  the 
old  man's  hand,  and  taking  his  wife's. 


TEE  BLOODY  CHASM.  301 

"As  long  as  I  have  life  to  hold  him,"  said  Virginia, 
laying  her  head  anew  on  her  husband's  shoulder. 

"We  have  only  to  add  that  Mrs.  Fitz  James  left 
Paris  within  a  week ;  that  a  sufficient  marriage  settle- 
ment enabled  Mr.  De  Bethune  to  wed  Norah  Macmor- 
ran  ;  and  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harry  Underhill  are  still 
living  happily  together. 

"The  affair  has  been  a  little — providential,"  Mrs. 
Dumont  occasionally  explains  to  her  friends,  both 
Northern  and  Southern.  "But  my  niece  has  acted 
throughout  as  became  a  Beaufort." 


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cinations, but  also  other  illusions  arising  from  that  capacity  for  error  which  belongs 
essentially  to  rational  human  nature.  The  author  has  endeavored  to  keep  to  a  strictly 
scientific  treatment— that  is  to  say,  the  description  and  classification  of  acknowledged 
errors,  and  the  exposition  of  them  by  a  reference  to  their  psychical  and  physical  con- 
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observed  in  seuse-perception,  in  the  introspection  of  the  mind's  own  feelings,  in  the 
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A  SELECTION  FROM  THE  LETTERS  OF  MADAME   DE   REMU- 

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of  social  and  pohtical  life  in  France  in  the  days  of  the  first  Napoleon.  They  deal,  of 
course,  largely  with  family  matters,  but  for  all  that  we  get  vivid  glimpses  of  public 
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can  pick  up  here  and  there  hints  which  do  not  appear  in  French  history,  and  yet  are 
absolutely  necessary  to  a  thorough  xmderstanding  of  It," — Boston  Evening  Tran- 
script. 

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Contents  of  "Vol,  II:  Part  I,  Studies  in  Eloquence:  Introductory;  History  of 
Eloquence;  Life  and  Character  of  Demosthenes ;  Oration  on  the  Crown;  Inferences; 
Inferences  {continued)'.  Inferences  {continued);  Inferences  {concluded). — Part  II, 
Studies  in  Logic:  Introductory;  Argumentation;  Classification;  Practical  Observa- 
tions,— Supplemental  Notes, 


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touch.  Tropical  vegetation  is  not  richer  or  more  spontaneous  than  the  au- 
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this  case  we  ought  to  add  that  the  power  of  satisfying  the  taste  is  coupled 
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UNCLE  REMUS: 

His   Songs  and   His  Sayings. 

THE  FOLK-LORE   OF  THE   OLD  PLANTATLON, 

By  JOEL  CHANDIiER  HARRIS. 


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with  plantation  life,  who  have  listened  to  these  quaint  old  stories,  who 
have  still  tender  reminiscences  of  some  good  old  mauma  who  told  these 
wondrous  adventures  to  them  when  they  were  children.  Brer  Rabbit,  the 
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sort." — Boston  Journal, 


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COOPER'S    NOVELS. 


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Ai 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wiimer 
331 


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